


Strip That Down For Me

by frymyrisole



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: 5+1 Things, M/M, take off ur shirt and get ur man, thats it thats the plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:27:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22067014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frymyrisole/pseuds/frymyrisole
Summary: It starts, like all horrible things do, with Sylvain.orStripping bare-chested gets you your man.
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Dedue Molinaro, Caspar von Bergliez/Linhardt von Hevring, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra, Raphael Kirsten/Ignatz Victor
Comments: 35
Kudos: 361





	1. Sylvain/Felix

**Author's Note:**

> I almost didn't post this from frustration. This fic idea has been in my docs for weeks. And now I'm finally released from it's clutches. I promised myself I wouldn't do another multi-chapter multi-ship fic again but here I am. A liar and a fool. 
> 
> Anyway, be warned I haven't played FE3H. I don't even have a switch! So expect some vagueness in timeline and storyline. (￣□￣」)

It starts, like all horrible things do, with Sylvain. 

Sylvain would argue it’s all Felix’s fault, _obviously_. Felix had declared a mandatory training session every week ever since The Incident capital letters mandatory and _non-negotiable Sylvain I'm not exaggerating_. Sylvain understands Felix’s nagging anxiety that he's going to get himself killed in battle one of these days, but it's _war_ for goddess' sake, people die every day. And now that the potential war has turned to a mildly peaceful if fragile peace with a few skirmishes here and there, there's hardly any need for a torture session with Fiendish Felix over here.

Nevermind the complete unbalanced practice a lance and sword give, Sylvain still can't score even with his best friend. The redhead was panting, bending down and clutching his _weak oh so weak knees_ , every muscle in his body screaming at him for having such an unforgiving sparring partner. Sweat had drenched every part of his body, even ones he didn't know _could sweat._ Meanwhile, Felix was barely unfazed. His monstrous regiment of daily training had made him accustomed to the drain of sparring. 

Felix sighed at Sylvain's pathetic form and thumped his foot impatiently. "Come on get your lazy ass up I don't have all day." He tapped his wooden practice sword to Sylvain's wooden lance repeatedly. The sound of wood meeting wood strikes fear in Sylvain's heart. The fear he never quite felt in the battlefields. No, the demonic regiment of Felix’s so-called _friendly sparring_ must end now. Sylvain was, despite the numerous speculations, quite intelligent. And by the second week of Fridays with Felix, he's devised a number of ways to slip away from training.

Sylvain coughed out the last of his short breath and raised his hand to Felix. "Wait…wait stop! We need to stop." Felix raised his eyebrow and gestured with his wooden sword as if to say _go on, what nonsense will you spout now_? 

"I uh-my lance! It's terribly off balance. Must be why I'm so off my groove today aha…" Sylvain trailed off, theatrically shifting his wooden lance and then exaggeratedly faked dropping it. "Oh boy guess we can't continue practicing Felix!" Sylvain said with a put upon sigh.

Felix narrowed his eyes and lightly kicked the fallen lance up and right to his awaiting free hand. He throws his wooden sword carelessly to Sylvain and the redhead fumbles to catch it. Felix hums as he shifts the lance left and right, before suddenly thrusting forward at Sylvain. He yelps and fumbles to parry with the wooden sword. Felix is unrelenting in his blows, swinging and stabbing without pause. Sylvain replies by shielding himself with his sword, bearing the weight and pressure of the lance. They keep at it until finally Felix’s lance threatens to poke his eye out and he shifts his footwork, swiftly dodging and swung his sword hard until the wooden lance is thrown away from Felix’s grip. Sylvain pants in exertion while Felix looks on to the discarded lance in satisfaction.

"You're right Sylvain what a terribly unbalanced lance. I'll get you a new one." Felix hums ignorant to Sylvain's gut-wrenching expression. Sylvain is screaming in his mind, it takes all the willpower he has not to shake Felix by his shoulders and scream _I don't think it's only the lance that's unbalanced you animal!_ He sighs and catches his breath while his mind has been racing to find his next excuse. Finally, the wind has caught up to his thoughts and he forces out more words. 

"Felix-ugh goddess…Felix, we have to stop! For real now!" He calls out desperately. Felix meanwhile has brought over a new set of wooden lance and by his satisfied smirk, Sylvain knows that Felix knows that he knows that-Felix is ready to call out his bullshit basically. 

"Whatever for Sylvain? And here I found such a good and _balanced_ lance for you." Felix mused as he playfully twirls the lance and walks over to Sylvain. 

Sylvain racks his brain for a new excuse until settling for long shot one. "Well, you see I'm getting quite hungry! How about we go to the tavern and I'll buy you some lunch?" Sylvain tries and brightens up when he sees Felix raise his eyebrow in interest. "I'll even buy you a drink and help you chat up with some nice gals!" Sylvain couldn't help but add. But it seems the added part only darken Felix’s features and a fleeting look of disappointment seems to flash in his eyes. 

"Well, I'm not hungry." Felix bites out as he throws the lance roughly to Sylvain. "I've lost my appetite looking at you fumbling around. It's a wonder they ever let you fight in the war." He growls. Sylvain's spirits drop once again. Not only did he not succeed it seems Felix’s sharp tongue has decided to say hello. Felix seems to take Sylvain's silence as him giving up and bends over to take his sword. Sylvain sighs and quickly stands up. 

Felix was clearly in a bad mood now, his casual stance gone. Now his shoulders are stiff and drawn back, ready to strike at all his opponent's weak points. And judging by how haggard he is right now, Sylvain doesn't think he can last any more hits. He's resigned to his fate until he notices how sweaty he is now. Glancing at Felix readying his deadly sword, Sylvain finds it in himself to make another excuse.

"Wait, Felix-" He starts only for Felix to click his tongue dismissively. 

"Enough waiting. Fight back or I'll beat you blue until you can't even think of flirting." He hisses out the last part. If Sylvain didn't know any better it sounded bitter and resigned. Sylvain's heart clenched at the thought. There's no way right? Felix wouldn't be upset over him flirting because he's jealous is he? He visibly shakes his head. No, there's no way he thought derisively.

Felix frowned when he sees him shaking his head. "What, why are you shaking your head? What other excuse do you have now?" He mutters angrily. Sylvain blinked and clutched his lance nervously. Goddess, he better answer with something _anything_. Think Sylvain! What can distract Felix enough to call off this fight! He racks his brain until an answer so simple and ridiculous comes out. What if…no it wouldn't work…unless? 

Sylvain takes a deep breath. This either confirms what little hope he has of Felix’s feelings wrapped up in that icy facade or he's not going to walk normally for the rest of the week. Either way, he's got nothing to lose and everything to possibly (hopefully, dear Goddess if you're really out there it's me your boy Sylvain and I want him _so bad_ ) gain. 

"Felix we really have to stop." He says firmly.

Felix blinks at his change of tone and huffs. "Do elaborate before my patience run out."

"M'm...hot…" Sylvain mutters hesitantly. 

Felix raised his eyebrow. "What?"

Sylvain groans. "M hot!" He coughs out.

Felix growls in response. "Speak up dumbass!" 

"I SAID I'M HOT!" Sylvain yells out. His voice echoes through the training grounds and through the stone walls. Whatever Felix expected it clearly wasn't that. His expression falters into confusion and disbelief. Sylvain is flushing in embarrassment but he's thrown his dice and made his bets. For a moment no one speaks until suddenly,

"YEAH YOU ARE!" A voice calls back. It's quickly followed with hisses and high pitched giggles. A glance of the monastery's arches and a few girls could be seen running off to class shoving their friend shamefully away. 

Sylvain chuckles despite himself a rosy blush on his cheeks. He turns to Felix ready to crack a joke when his mind screeches into a halt. There on Felix’s cheeks were a pair of equally red rosy color. Sylvain's heart stutters in his chest. This is it now or never.

"Gosh, I'm hot aren't you hot Felix?" He throws out casually as he settles his lance down. Felix blinks and struggled to regain his speech. In the end, he settled on shaking his head. Sylvain smiled. "No? Guess not you've been doing this more than me huh. Well if you don't mind I'll cool off." He gestures to himself. Seeing Felix’s confused nod he braces himself. Alright, Sylvain, you've got this. You've flirted with so many women rejection be damned. What's another try with your dear childhood friend and only best friend that can kill you slowly with a blunt wooden sword?

He smiles nervously, then starts taking off his outer jacket. He's foregone his usual armor of course for the light training so he had worn his usual black and gold lined jacket and his white undershirt. Felix seems relieved at the motion and regained his wit enough to banter again. That is if Sylvain was finished. No, the redhead was just getting started. He met Felix’s eyes directly and started to undo the buttons on his linen shirt. Felix’s eyes widened and he zeroed in on his hands. 

Sylvain unconsciously licked his lips. At long last, his fingers unravel the last button and with a sudden confidence boost, he shrugs off his shirt in one fell swoop. The shirt drops to the ground, and for a moment all is still. Sylvain wasn't lying when he said he was feeling hot, sweat had already covered his body. He runs a hand over his hair and gives out his best-blinding smile. "So much better. So Felix, should we continue?" He says lightly. 

Felix, however, seems far from ready. His eyes are drawn from Sylvain's motion of parting back his damp hair. Then involuntarily it drifts down to Sylvain's toned chest. Despite Sylvain's constant whining of training and sparring, he does keep himself in shape. At least Professor Byleth makes sure he does these days. Felix’s eyes drift even lower at Sylvain's muscled abs and _oh Goddesses is that what I think it is_? There innocently sitting was a happy trail from Sylvain's navel down to his-Felix blushed and forced himself to look away. The hand that was clutching his wooden sword was clammy with sweat and he absent-mindedly squeezed the hilt to ground himself. 

He's seen Sylvain naked ever since they were a pair of snotty children. Hell, he's even seen Ingrid naked. Their nannies were terribly worn down taking care of five children running around the grounds and making a mess. One day they decided they absolutely hated the idea of being clean and after one of them finished bathing the unclean ones would latch right on to them and rub their dirty hands and faces to their freshly cleaned friend. The nanny had neared sobbed when she saw the gleeful pair of Sylvain and Ingrid rubbing their muddy hands to Felix’s amused face. The nannies then upped and decided it was better to throw them all in the oversized tub together and scrub them clean once and for all. Felix always looked back through the memory in fondness, of piling suds and splashing water with each other. 

Of course, now Felix had to go and catch _feelings_ for his notably very straight and very flirtatious friend. Felix growls lowly under his breath in frustration. Sylvain called him back from his stroll to memory lane. "Felix! Hey, anybody home in there? Come on, I thought we were sparring!" He shouted. To Felix’s frustration, he sounded amused. He slowly looked back to Sylvain and right there on that dumb face, he's somehow found attractive enough to pine for he sees the teasing light in his eyes and an amused tilt of his lips. 

Felix’s mind muddles with the thought of Sylvain doing this to intentionally mess with him. _There's no way he's found out and_ Felix’s thoughts trail off. Every pessimistic bone in his body screaming that the redhead was cruelly messing with him. He clutches the sword in his hand harder and with a sudden sprint swung it as hard as he can down on Sylvain. The redhead sputtered in surprise as he blocked with his hastily grabbed lance. The wooden handle nearly breaking under pressure over Felix’s blow. Sylvain grunted as he struggled to find his footing again. Felix, however, seemed to regain his vicious attacks in fervor. Sylvain felt cold sweat dripping down his back.

He really did think this was a good idea. He felt himself growing glummer as he faced Felix’s angry expression. He parried another blow and quickly jumped back out of range. Clearly, Felix had no love lost for him. Whatever Sylvain saw back there, that hint of lust and _want_ must've been his mind playing tricks on him. He sighed down at his lance. Might as well get serious if he doesn't want Felix to clobber him dead. Now he's gone and strip himself down too. He inwardly groans. The sharp pain of that rough wooden sword would be unpleasant on his bare upper body. 

He takes a deep breath and starts parrying Felix’s blows with his own. He's not dragging himself, and he's no longer on the defensive. Now, he's fighting to win. Felix seemed pleased with the turnaround and met his blows eagerly. They go through the motion as always, a routine akin to a dance across the training grounds. Both of them are growing lighter at the familiar exchange, the odd exchange of earlier dissipating. Sylvain feels a genuine pleased smile pulling on his face, a giddy thrill of being on equal footing with Felix.

However at the next exchange, Sylvain's lance easily overpowers Felix’s sword that barely manages to parry the blow. On Felix’s cheeks are the familiar signs of a blush. Despite himself Sylvain's hope grows and clutches on the back of his mind, unrelenting. Something like determination lights in him and he starts swinging and thrusting at Felix without pause. Felix growled and met it with with his own strong blows, but his traitorous eyes drift back to Sylvain's exposed chest. 

Now with the pressure of battle movements, his muscles tense and strain in response. Sylvain was always attractive this much Felix knows. But now, there's no mistaking how built he is, how _strong_ he is. Now Felix can drink in other details, Sylvain's pink nipples perked up with the heat. His happy trail thick enough to be apparent yet still neat, leading down to his… _hefty package_ to say the least. The dirty thoughts running a marathon on his head distracted him fully from the fight. 

Felix was clearly unprepared for Sylvain's sudden attacks and stumbled to parry and shield himself. A sudden opening came to Sylvain's view and he swiftly strikes down at Felix. Felix stumbled and with a harsh sound landed on his back. 

Felix’s breath was knocked right out of him. He's lost his hold on his sword and was now looking up at the glare of the sun. He squints and moved to cover his eyes only to suddenly see a cast of shadow hovering over him. He glances up to Sylvain's gentle gaze in a sudden bout of embarrassment. "What you've come to gloat? You better savor it because this is the only time I'll ever allow you to use such lowly tricks on me." He growls up to the read head. Sylvain blinked in surprise and to Felix’s amazement started to chuckle down at him. Felix’s anger boiled over as he kicked Sylvain's conveniently nearby leg. The red head jumped in surprise and let out a small groan of pain.

"Ow Felix why would you do that!" 

"Because you're laughing at me you asshole! You're having the time of your life right now aren't you, teasing me and using my-taking advantage of-" Felix’s words are cut off. Angry as he is his pride refuses to acknowledge his feelings much less outright tell Sylvain that. The red head frowned and shook his head. 

"Come on Felix you know me better than that. I would never-I would never." He said firmly.

"Yeah? Explain this _strategy_ of yours then." Felix hissed and gestures wildly at Sylvain's bare chest. Goddesses even now down at the grown Sylvain's form make for an amazing view. The blush on his cheeks remained stubbornly and refused to go away. The heat of the recent battle deepening the shade. 

Something in Sylvain seemed to snap as he harshly threw away his lance. Then with a flourish and Felix’s sharp gasp he took Felix by the arm and pulled him up. Felix ended up pressed closed to Sylvain head to toe and barely an inch seperating them. Felix’s breath was knocked out and all he could do was stare at Sylvain. His hands had ended up holding on to Sylvain's pecs in a desperate attempt for a firm grip. Absent mindedly his palm grazed the firm muscle beneath it. 

Sylvain's breath hitched from the motion. Slowly, as if facing a lion, he circled his arms around Felix’s waist. He drew Felix closer until their foreheads nearly touched each others. "Tell me Felix...are you really affected with my…strategy then?" He murmurs lowly. Felix clutched the chest beneath him harder as if grounding himself into reality.

He was about to deny it, deny everything to hell and back if it meant he could avoid talking about these accursed _feelings_. But this close with Sylvain, sharing a breath for two and feeling the warm arms wrapping around him, Felix felt brave. He felt for the first time that he could truly do this, consequences be damned. He pulls back slightly and met Sylvain's eyes. If Felix were convincing himself, he might even say it looked pleading and with a hint of fragile hope. Want bubbled up inside him nearly choking him of air. What he ended up coughing out however is, 

"Everything you do affects me, Sylvain."

Sylvain's heart thuds and he lets out a hesitant smile. "In a good way?" Gently, one of his hands wanders to rest on Felix’s burning cheek. He cups it like it's as fragile as this moment. Felix sighs and leans his head towards it. For the first time in a while, it's a content sigh.

"If you call me losing because of some dirty trick good, then yes." He can't help but jab. He has accepted his defeat but he will not relent on _how_ Sylvain won. It was not fair and square, far from it, it was…a circle of cunning strategies. Sylvain sighed at this. As always Felix’s sharp tongue knows no mercy. Not even on a potential first step to their almost romantic relationship. At least, that's what Sylvain hopes Felix wants. 

"But you like me right." He demanded rather than asked. Now both his hands has wandered up to cup Felix’s cheeks. "You can't be looking at me like that and not like me." He tried to tease, but really it sounds like a tentative plea in his ears.

Felix raised his eyebrow and smirked. "I mean you look good I'll give you that." Emboldened by the knowledge of Sylvain feeling the same way, _he_ _must be right or else he wouldn't hold me like this, like I'm something worth holding dear_ \- Felix teasingly ran his hand up and down Sylvain's chest. 

Sylvain choked on the outright praise. You see Sylvain talked big, he's flirted with countless of women all his life without batting an eyelash. But he never quite knows how to respond to genuine reciprocity. He hears the teasing tone in Felix’s words, and he's determined to match it head to head. He's supposed to be the teaser here _jeez_. 

"I can't believe it Felix you just want to use me for my body don't you!" He let out a gasp and dramatically cover his mouth with both his hand. 

Felix nodded solemnly. "That's right you've called me out. I only want you for your sexy body, Sylvain." Sylvain guffawed with laughter and smacked Felix’s shoulder.

"Oh, so it's not because you've been pining for me from afar the battlefield, too nervous to say anything?" He ponders playfully. 

"No, it's because I've been pining for you since we were children." Felix blurted out.

Silence settled awkwardly between them as Sylvain's jaw dropped. Shocked, he's resorted to shaking Felix’s shoulders forward and back. "What-Felix that's-oh _my goddesses_ you've been pining for me for-for years!" He gasped out in disbelief.

Felix grew frustrated and shame crawled to his back. He shoved himself away from Sylvain with a growl. "Teasing me, shaming me, giving me false hope. I see you've adopted a sick hobby of torturing me." He spits out. He walks away from Sylvain's dumbfounded look towards his discarded shirt and jacket. He roughly grabbed them from the ground and shoved it into the red head's chest with a vindictive shove. "Well I get it you don't feel the same way, now get out of my face."

Sylvain shook his head and threw the clothes away in a hurry to grab Felix’s retreating form. "Waitwaitwait-what do you mean I don't feel the same way. Goddess Felix I wouldn't do this with anyone else." He rasped out desperately. Felix stopped in his tracks and slowly glanced back. 

"Why did you laugh at me then." 

"I wasn't laughing at you!" Sylvain exclaimed. "No I was just- I didn't think you've been…with me…for _so long Felix_." He neared whispered the last part. Disbelief is bubbling in his gut. Not at Felix’s feelings of course. But at the very thought of someone loving him for so long and so steadfastly. As if reading his thoughts Felix frowned at him. 

"Why is that so hard to wrap your little head around? Didn't think I had it in me?" Felix challenged. 

"Of course not Felix." Sylvain said softly. "I just- I guess I'm just shocked really."

"Don't be." Felix muttered. "It's really not that hard to fall for you."

Sylvain's heart tightened and an unrestrained smile bloomed in his face. "It's not hard to fall for you too." He replied gently. He met Felix’s gaze head on once again and took a deep breath.

"I like you, Felix."

"You're tolerable. Sometimes." 

Sylvain pouted. “Well, that’s as good as I love you when it comes to you I guess,” Felix smirked.

"Your face helps a lot. And your muscles. Evidently. "

"It is a good face." Sylvain said solemnly. "And I am quite ripped. One might say I'm shredded."

Now they're both grinning at each other basking in the whispered confessions. Now, Felix can finally do as he pleases. He runs his eyes hungrily over Sylvain and licked his lips. The red hair pinked at the sight but regained his earlier confidence. He grabbed Felix by the waist once again. The swordsman hummed in response and ran his hand over Sylvain's bare skin. He shivered in anticipation. 

Feeling cheeky Felix raked his hand over Sylvain's chest and lightly scrapped his sensitive nipples with his nails. Sylvain gasped in pleasure and hissed lowly. "I see you're enjoying my body. Maybe I really am just a piece of meat for you." He said with a pout. 

"Serves you right for pulling this stunt on me," Felix muttered. "Taking off your clothes in the middle of battle, only you could come up with such foolishness."

Sylvain groaned. "But Felix it was either we go on pining for each other for years or this! See if you just stripped in front of me _decades ago_ we could have already been making out every day!" Sylvain berated mockingly. Felix promptly slapped him over his head ignoring his pained whimper.

"Goddesses shut up and kiss me before I stab you with the lance and end it all. Either way, my headache goes away-" Felix's rant cuts off to the soft feeling of lips meeting his. He inwardly grumbles about being interrupted but eventually moans in response and melts to the kiss, tangling his fingers into Sylvain's damp hair like he's always wanted to. 

Sylvain sighed and guided them until Felix’s back meets the arch's stone wall. The black-haired man gasped in surprise and in response Sylvain cheerily slips his tongue in. Felix’s legs wrap up to Sylvain's waist in response. The pair drown themselves in each other, grinding moaning and giggling like a pair of school boys. Belatedly Sylvain patted himself in the back for a spot on strategy and analysis of his 'opponent' in the battlefield called love. Hell, maybe he'll be as good as the professor soon enough.

There on the training grounds, a pair of wooden lance and sword lay neglected in favor of stealing kisses and moments with each other. And there they lay neglected for weeks to come, as Felix found other more _intimate_ sparing sessions he wishes to do with Sylvain, one unfit for the open training grounds. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Goddess Felix you had a big fat crush on me. That's so embarrassing babe." Sylvain exclaimed. On top of him was a very naked Felix, resting his head on Sylvain's chest and absent-mindedly drawing patterns on Sylvain's abs with his finger. 
> 
> "Sylvain we're dating."
> 
> "YEAH BUT STILL. I HAD TO HOE MYSELF OUT TO YOU FOR YOU STOP SMACKING ME WITH YOUR SWORD AND START FUCKING ME WITH YOUR SWORD SWORD-" 
> 
> "You've always been a hoe Sylvain I can't evoke you of things you aren't already are deep down."
> 
> "Ok first of all rude second of all who's worse the hoe or the hoe's lover huh?"


	2. Ferdinand/Hubert

A loud groan echoed on the monastery's peaceful gardens. All around were the beautiful sights of flowers of various kinds, roses, in particular, were blooming quite nicely. In the middle of the setting were a pair of people, sitting in one of the most prime spots for tea time. On one side was a beautiful and charming young lady, and on the other was an equally handsome and charming man. It wouldn't be a far shot to say that any wandering eyes would see them as the perfect couple. That is if the man didn't have an expression contorted to frustration and eyebags so prominent, clashing with his light-colored hair. 

"Ferdy  _ honestly  _ you're complaining like a forlorn wife whose husband died in the war or something." Dorothea sighed. One of her delicate hand was stirring listlessly at her cup of tea and the other was propped under her chin to keep it from slipping down and falling asleep at Ferdinand's constant complaining. Between them was a pot of warm Sweet-Apple blend tea-Dorothea, of course, won the right to choose the blend. She always does. And set beside it was a plate of freshly baked cookies. 

Her eyes kept straying to the cookies, and she debated if eating it would be worth the extra exercise she would have to do later. Ferdinand finally lifted his head from where it was buried to the table and glared at Dorothea. "Dory please you don't understand. He  _ never stops arguing  _ with me. It's maddening! It's Edelgard this Edelgard-one of these days his last dying words would be Edelgard!" He groans and angrily pours more tea to his cup. 

Dorothea snorted and belatedly decided the cookie was worth it after all. Ferdinand has taken a habit of baking them to prove how competent he is as a nobleman. It would be a shame to waste them. She chews on one as she chews out Ferdinand. "First of all don't call me  _ Dory _ you know I detest how it sounds. Second of all, Hubert's last words wouldn't be Edelgard." She paused as she savored the cookie's taste. "It would be  _ Lady  _ Edelgard." She grinned at Ferdinand's answering groan. 

She humms at the cookie's taste. Chewy and gooey on the inside just how she likes them. Maybe if this war thing ends soon and her being a singer doesn't work out she can tempt Ferdinand into opening a bakery with her. Ferdinand is still glowering at her but no one can miss the blush rising in his cheeks from talking about Hubert.  _ Men _ , she thought as she sipped her cup of tea,  _ always making such simple things like matters of the heart complicated _ . 

"But Thea it's like I don't even matter to him unless I'm arguing about Edelgard or her policies." He pouts as his anxious hands start breaking apart the cookies on the plate. "I mean we traded our favorite beverages and came to some sort of agree to disagree sort of thing, but…" He sighs and puts his head on the table again. 

"How do I make him pay attention to  _ me _ not my thoughts or my theories and strategies. Me." The sentence is muffled and Ferdinand seems to resign himself to a rather sad and lonely scenario. Dorothea raised an eyebrow. Nobles really are clueless in romance. The samples being Ferdinand and Hubert the pair of emotional S&Ms, Sylvain and Felix’s nonexistent pining, and Dimitri and his-ah well. Case made of course. 

"Alright quit your yapping I'll tell you a tip from the primadonna of the monastery." She smugly says, tucking her long hair back. Immediately Ferdinand's head perks up and he looks at her in anticipation. 

"Tell me, Dorothea, what's your secret in making everyone fall in love with you!" He nearly yells clutching one of her hands between his excitedly. 

Dorothea grinned. "Boobs."

Ferdinand expected something unorthodox but clearly, he wasn't prepared for  _ that _ . He chokes on himself. If he were drinking tea he might have even splutter it all out to Dorothea. She giggled at his dumbfounded expression and took another sip of her tea.

"Oh dear, that might be too much for your delicate noble ears huh.." She placates. "It's not like I need to show a little skin mind you. It's just that it seems to…shall I say amplify my charm?" She grinned. 

Ferdinand let her hands go with a disappointed look. "I don't think even I can manage to grow a pair of... _ those _ ." He mutters weakly. "Nor would I want to really."

Dorothea tuts him. "Oh, ye of little faith. I know you're packing the appropriate noble fit under that uniform. I'm telling you to pop those buttons off and Hubert won't even remember Edelgard's name."

"How do you know it'll work for me?" 

"Oh you didn't hear? A little kitty cat tells me they saw Sylvain doing the exact same thing to Felix." She stage whispered. Ferdinand blinked and leaned forward, clutching his cup of tea. 

"My my do tell!" 

An hour of raunchy and scandalous gossips later, or as Ferdinand likes to mask it as,  _ information gathering _ he slowly makes his way to the meeting room. He and Hubert had arranged the meet in the afternoon to discuss the recent changes of noble positions and whether they would support Edelgard and her cause. Just as he was about to past by the kitchens a thought that was planted by his earlier chat with Dorothea sprouted. Surely…even Hubert couldn't resist physical attraction right? They're obviously attracted on an intellectual level. They hold each other on high regard, rare for someone as sardonic as Hubert. 

He pursed his lips in thought. Mind set up he made a small detour to the kitchen. A few moments later he emerges with a tray in his hand, carrying two cups and two warm pots of coffee and tea. He arrived in front of the meeting room only to realize he can't balance the tray and open the door at the same time. At least not confidently. Silently apologizing for his ruly behavior, he lightly kicked the door with his shoe. The door opened after a moment Hubert's expression tight and ready to berate anyone daring to kick doors in his presence. His eyebrow lifted instead as it landed on the tray and up to Ferdinand's sheepish face. 

"My how un-noble like of you Ferdinand," Hubert said as he opened the door wider and gestured him inside. Ferdinand grumbled as he stepped in and set the tray carefully down the table. 

"Don't even  _ start _ okay, if my mother saw me like this she would insist on calling my old ethics teacher back from the grave." Ferdinand sighed. Hubert snickered as he settled into his seat. He opened the lid to the coffee pot and hummed at the comforting smell of freshly brewed beans. Ferdinand smiled, pleased that he managed to put a genuine smile on Hubert's face. He soon settled in his own seat and grimaced at the pile of letters waiting for him. 

"Is this all the letters we managed to intercept then?" Ferdinand silently took one from the pile and grabbed his letter opener. Hubert nodded as he started to pour his own cup of coffee and Ferdinand's fancy fruit tea. 

"I glanced over it last night. Seems most of them are unrelated letters of love affairs and such." Hubert clucked his tongue in annoyance, grabbing a letter of his own. Ferdinand glanced over the first letter and grimaced. 

"Goddess must he use so much forced rhyme and prose? I hardly think his mistress is 'a beauty beyond compare, a cock sucker extraordinaire'. Hubert stiffed a growing smile. 

"Ridiculous. Cease your jokes or we'll never sort this pile of garbage before dinner."

"Alright alright." Ferdinand sighed. There goes the mood. 

They spend the better half of the day pouring over the letters. At least the marquess was getting more creative with his love letters. Comparing his lover's smile to a glass of warm rum or her hair to the brown of buckwheat. By now their drinks have been reduced to their last cup. Hubert had grown more and more frustrated at the lack of intel and was close to tearing off the letters with his teeth. Ferdinand was zoning off when he realized something with a start. 

"Hubert I forgot! I had some left over cookies from my tea time with Dorothea earlier." He said excitedly as he brandished a fancy cloth wrapping held together with a ribbon. "I'm quite proud of this batch! I had to swat her hand off from it." He set the cookies between them. Hubert narrowed his eyes at them as he gingerly took one in his hand. 

"You seem to take to baking quite well. Considering a career change?" He mused as he nibbled on the raisin cookie. Such old taste, Ferdinand thought fondly. 

"You should know by now, nothing will stop me from being Edelgard's future prime minister." Ferdinand grinned at Hubert's pointed glare. "Not even you staring me down Hubert. I'll call her as a friend calls each other." He took a butter cookie and nibbled on it. Mm not as good as it was warm, could improve the texture more. Hubert sighed.

" _ Lady _ Edelgard is not your friend no matter how you spin it." He glared at the cookie in his hand like it personally offended Edelgard and the Empire as a whole. "So not baking then. Perhaps it's not a career change, perhaps it's a…relationship status?" 

Ferdinand's cheeks flush with embarrassment and annoyance. "I and Dorothea are simply friends nothing more nothing less. You should get some sometimes I hear it's a normal human function." He snides. Hubert's eyes glints in that dangerous way everytime they argue. Or as Edelgard sufferingly dubs 'verbal spar that gives everyone and their mother a migraine'. Dorothea thinks they're like a pair of old married couple on a brink of divorce only staying together through sear stubbornness.

Hubert smirks. "I thought you were my friend?" 

Ferdinand's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Wow glad you didn't twist your tongue saying that." Hubert chuckled in a humorless tone. 

"It was befriending you or killing you, and Lady Edelgard would be troubled much more by the latter." Hubert said. Ferdinand scoffed at him fiddling with his last cup of tea. 

"Is that really why you befriended me?" Ferdinand asked in false nonchalance. Outside he was the picture-perfect of a composed nobleman. Inside he was a giddy school girl fishing for compliments and grains of approval from her crush. 

"Everything I do is for Lady Edelgard." Hubert said with an ease and tone that Ferdinand knew meant it was the bare truth. He clutched the cup in his hand harder. He had no problem dedicating his life for Edelgard and to extent the Empire. He was born to the role after all. No seal can change what his role in this life is. But if there is one aspect in his life he would choose with his own bare hands, in every lifetime, it would be-

"What about love." He blurted out before he could stop himself. He met Hubert's stunned face and quickly powered through. "W-what about who you marry? Are you going to marry whoever Edelgard chooses for you?" There's a challenge in that last sentence , and a silent prayer. 

Hubert tilts his head as if entertaining the need to even think about it. "It's  _ Lady _ Edelgard, and yes of course I would." He said decisively. If one were to look closely they could even imagine him puffing his chest out in pride. Ferdinand looked down at the cup in his hand his hazy reflection looking back. Even he looks somber and disheartened through his mask.

"Even...even if you love someone?" 

Hubert scoffed. "I hardly think I would fall in love with someone more than my devotion to Lady Edelgard and the Empire." A sardonic smirk spread across his face. "I don't even think anyone can truly befriend me much less love me." He adds decisively and seems to decide that's that and returned to his letters. 

"You're wrong." Ferdinand said lowly. Hubert either has deigned to ignore him or not hear him all together as he kept reading. "You're wrong." He said again more firmly.

Hubert hummed in response. Ferdinand gritted his teeth. Mind made up he raised his cup higher. And splashed the remaining tea on his chest. He nearly gasped at the wet and slightly cold feeling. Ferdinand managed to reel it in just as Hubert turned and gaped at him. "What  _ are you doing _ you fool you nearly ruined the letters!" 

"Oh my." Ferdinand said as he looked down on himself. "How clumsy of me. Guess I should take it off before I catch a cold." His hands quickly unbuttoned his jacket revealing a stained undershirt. Without pause he unbuttoned that as well and not long after he sat shirtless in the meeting room.

Hubert's uncovered eye was flitting from Ferdinand's false serene face to his uncovered upper body. Then as he gathered himself he gritted out, "Stop this nonsense right now you cur! Put your clothes back on!" Ferdinand hummed before shaking his head. 

"That won't do at all Hubert! Why if I were to put my wet clothes on and catch a cold I would fail to fulfill my duties for Edelgard and in the end cost the Empire itself!" He shakes his head dramatically as he stood up. "I could be charged with treason! War crimes!" He walked the small steps that brought him right in front of Hubert's seat. He leaned closer with his right hand propped on the table. 

Hubert's eye was going wild avoiding Ferdinand's attempt to meet his and as if mentally giving up, he turned his whole face away. Ferdinand smirked. Silently he thanked Dorothea for her wisdom. Unwilling to cease for even a little he grasped Hubert's jaw and turned it to face him once again. Hubert struggled and thrashed about. Ferdinand sighed. Then with ease he climbed on top of Hubert's lap and settled himself comfortably. 

Unconsciously Hubert's hand flew to rest on Ferdinand's hips to steady him. A second later he realized and pulled his hands away. Ferdinand licked his lips nervously. He was confident when Hubert's gaze kept flying to his bare chest. Even now the man beneath him is struggling to keep his eyes away from him. But now Ferdinand realized he didn't exactly…know the next step. Call Hubert out perhaps?  _ On what _ , he thought hysterically. 

Hubert was growing impatient and kept shifting himself away from Ferdinand. " _ What are you pulling _ Ferdinand! Whatever it is I won't sit here and take it!" His words are harsh and resolute but his body was the definition of nervousness. Ferdinand blinked and nearly balked. It seems even a hint of red was on Hubert's cheeks! Confidence grew again inside him. 

"You said everything would pale in comparison to Edelgard's ambitions and the Empire's goals." He said as he took one of Hubert's tense hand. He rubbed the soft white fabric covering it in thought. "You said you would even marry in the absence of love." He brought the hand up to his lips and slowly kissed it maintaining eye contact all the while. Hubert's eyes follow the motion closely, his breath still. "Is that really how you feel Hubert?" 

"What…what does it matter how I feel." He replied roughly. "It will always come second to my duty." Ferdinand's eyes waver. He examines the gloved hand in his grasp and slowly, carefully, he bites his to the soft fabric and  _ pulls _ . It comes off easily without a hitch. He takes Hubert's bare hand reverently and puts in on his chest. 

"It doesn't have to be." Ferdinand chokes out. "Not in this at least."

"I don't know what filthy romance books Dorothea has filled in your head, but in the real world-" He cuts himself off to a choke. "In the real world, true love doesn't triumph all. You have your duties to your family  _ and  _ the empire. And so do I. Even…even in this." He finishes. He absent mindedly traces his bare hand down Ferdinand's chest.

The gasp that Ferdinand let out was small and stilted but there all the same. He glared at Hubert, his cheeks red but his eyes determined, clutching his hand close. "Don't patronize me or my feelings. You may be a coward, but I Ferdinand von Aegir am not." He says as he makes to get up. He almost does until Hubert roughly pulls him back on top of him. 

Ferdinand lets out a small oof nearly toppling over the chair. His face was roughly grasped with Hubert's left hand, the hand still covered with a glove  _ the coward _ . Ferdinand met Hubert's furious eyes with a sneer. "What, you angry? Finally feeling something for yourself?" Hubert's answering growl makes Ferdinand scoff. "Stop growling like a dog and say what you want  _ coward _ ." He shoves at the hand grasping his jaw.

It only managed to make Hubert angrier and even more determined to hold him there. " _ I am no coward _ ." Hubert says lowly. 

"And I'm not Ferdinand von Aegir. You  _ are _ a coward, Hubert." Ferdinand says as a matter of fact. "You claim to have no friends yet you mother everyone in Black Eagles all the same. You claim you do not care yet you're ready to kill anyone looking at Edelgard wrong. You claim you do not love-" He stops there. It's mighty presumptuous but he's dug himself a hole so large and happily jumped down anyway. "But you look at me like this." He traces Hubert's jaw with his hand softly. 

Hubert's throat visibly bobs and his breathing is harsher. "I thought you of all people would understand. There is no time for sentimentality. There is no room for feelings. There just isn't." 

"No," Ferdinand says sadly. "There isn't. But we make the time. We make room. If not now Hubert, when?" 

Hubert's grasp gentles. "Is one day not enough?" 

"We can have a one day." Ferdinand smiles. The thought of one day in the future of piled high paperwork and endless worrying for Edelgard. The thought of working until night and day blurs with their heads bent over and nose filled with the smell of parchment and ink. Of seeing a princess grow to an Emperor, a destiny fulfilled. Nothing brings him more joy. 

"But we can have a today too." Pouring over battle plans and maps of endless fields. Trying to coax Bernie from her rooms, Lindhart from sleeping in class. Teaching Petra proper grammar and idioms that elude her, Caspar from screaming his head off before swinging his blade. Listening to Dorothea sing. Challenging Edelgard, yearning for her approval. Sharing a pot of tea and coffee with Hubert. 

Hubert’s eyes flutter before with a sudden pull meets his lips with Ferdinand's. The noble gasped but quickly melts into it, clutching Hubert's neck desperately. Hubert's hand cautiously settles on Ferdinand. Then as if his strings have been cut he pulls Ferdinand closer by his hips, grounding them both against each other . Their moans were small and stifled hesitant to ruin the moment. Then Hubert's hand-the one without a glove,  _ not a coward after all _ -flew to brushed against his bare chest. Ferdinand gasped and broke off the kiss, tucking his head on Hubert's shoulder. 

Reverently Hubert stroke the expanse of skin soft under his hand. And then with a smirk, tweaked Ferdinand's nipple that had hardened by the cold air. Ferdinand muffled his moan on Hubert's shoulder face red. 

"Come now you've been so bold already and  _ now  _ you're embarrassed?" Hubert mocked teasingly. Ferdinand's answer is a smack to his shoulder and a deeper burrow to his shoulder. Hubert chuckled and silently brushed Ferdinand's hair, tucking it back on his ear. He pressed a silent kiss to the ear,  _ thank you for believing in me _ . Ferdinand's silent kiss to the side of his neck answered,  _ thank you for being brave _ . 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Did you do it?" Dorothea asked solemnly.  
> Ferdinand nodded.  
> "What did it cost?" She asked in a hush.  
> "My shirt and jacket." Ferdinand sobbed.


	3. Dimitri/Claude

_ This isn't going to work _ . "This isn't going to work." Claude said out loud. Two equally stuffed faces looked at him blankly. Claude nearly laughed out loud but he pressed his hand to muffle his smile. Dimitri was working his way on a plate of sweets never quite pausing his pace until his cheeks are full like a hamster. Across from him is Professor Byleth equally stuffing her face with spiced meat and mash potatoes. Claude glanced at his own untouched plate of stew with a grimace. He's grown quite full just looking at them both. 

When his dear teach had suggested sharing meals between house leaders to strengthen their bonds in the battlefield Claude saw the disaster coming from a mile-no two miles away. Sharing meals with teach is one thing. She's immune to his charms but occasionally she feels playful enough to play along. Sharing a meal with his house is an even more fun however predictable they are. They're a whirlwind of chaos, but it was a chaos he knew well. 

Eating with Edelgard and Dimitri was a chaos he did not want to shoot with an arrow twenty feet away. Jibes and sarcasm can only be exchanged for a while before someone snaps and the axe comes out or the lance comes out sometimes the sword of the creator comes out and the weapon triangle is completed. Poor Claude with his bow can only smack away the food flying towards his handsome face. 

By the third attempt of a nice family dinner, Byleth has deigned it easier to separate them on two groups and work their way up to three. And it would be a solid plan, if they did anything other than stuff their faces and leave with an appreciative nod towards the empty plate. 

"Come on, I thought we were supposed to be bonding with each other!" Claude exclaimed and gestures wildly on the space between them. "You know how bonding works right? For starters, like we talk about our feelings ya kno, get to know one another, sing kumbaya with a fire between us." Claude says expectedly. His eyes fly to Byleth's for support. 

She looks back blankly at him before silently putting down the meat in her hand. Then she looked dead on at Dimitri and said, "I feel hungry. What do you feel Dimitri?" 

The blond looked back and grunted. "I also feel hungry. Claude what do-" 

"Despair." He said with his head in his hands. "I feel despair." The blank faced twins nodded sympathetically and returned to their meals. Claude feels an endless hopelessness unlike anything he's ever felt before. 

“Excuse me.” He stood up abruptly nearly knocking the chair over. "I must consult my aide over this enlightening conversation." He said solemnly and nodded to both of them. They nodded back in answer and began tearing in their meals again. Claude resisted the urge to cover his face as he made his way out of the dining area. 

His eyes catch a hint of the color pink and he latches on to it in a heartbeat. "Hilda!" The arm he grabbed flinched and nearly punched him on the nose. She glanced back furiously only to slump when she sees his face. 

"Claude you idiot don't jump on me like that!" She sighs and Claude sheepishly lets her arm go. 

"Sorry Hilda. I just really need your advice right now."

Hilda's eyes squint to where he emerged in the first place with a grim face. "Ah. You just ate with the cardboard duo huh." Claude nodded solemnly. 

"I swear they're not this bad in battle. There they always have monologs and cool one-liner." Claude mutters. "Even my charm can't get through their silence. The only thing they feel is hunger apparently. What has the world come to!" He shook his head. 

Hilda crossed her arms in thought. "Not that I don't appreciate your sob story, and your eagerness to find me. But what can I possibly do to help you?"

Claude grabbed her by the shoulder and stared straight at her. "Come eat with me  _ and _ them. I need the moral support Hildaaa..." She scrunched her face at the thought. 

"Sorry I don't have time to awkwardly juggle a conversation with you. I can pray for you though! Out here! Away from their empty stares!" She said cheerfully flipping her hair. Claude glared at her until she slumped over. 

"Well, I can at least think of something with you. Your handsome big brain with my cute big brain we can think of anything!" Hilda grinned. Claude's eyebrow lifted in thought. 

"That's not how brains work but I get your point. Let's see…"

A few minutes of scheming and plotting later it was Hilda who made a breakthrough. 

"I don't know if it's relevant or not…" She trailed off. "But word is Sylvain and Felix actually managed to get together after a makeout session on the training grounds. And inspired by that I heard Ferdinand also stuck his tongue in Hubert and now they're together too!" 

Claude smirked. "You just want to see me making out with the teach and Dimitri huh? You pervert."

Hilda grinned back. "No offense Claude you're all very beautiful people but the thought of seeing you making out with anybody is enough to make me sick." She pursed her lips in thought. "I think the step before making out was stripping your shirt away actually. Distract them with muscles or something."

They both hummed at the same time. "I don't think stripping in front of Dimitri and teach would actually do much. Not that I wouldn't be a snack and an absolute treat." Claude warned her with a waggle of his finger. 

Hilda nearly bit it off with a chomp and Claude pulled back with a laugh and a  _ down girl _ ! Hilda playfully woofed. Then a light glinted in her eyes that Claude knew signaled enlightenment. "What girl, what is it?" He asked patting his thighs excitedly. Hilda growled and smacked him up his head. 

"Shut up! Look I figured it out alright. You stripping might not be enough." She ignored his pout. "But maybe if you  _ all _ stripped..." She proposed and Claude's eyes light in realization. 

"The sauna! I'll make them all strip and bond with me naked!" He shouted. The people passing by curled their lips in disgust but he relished in Hilda's excited claps and encouragement. 

That afternoon he invited both the teach and Dimitri to join him in the sauna. He'd managed to pull some strings and kept it empty and void of anyone else to ensure optimal bonding opportunity. A few minutes later Dimitri came dragged by the hand by Byleth and she resolutely put his hand on Claude's. 

"Bond." She said solemnly before twisting away and walking off. They stood there awkwardly hand in hand before Dimitri snapped and pulled back.

"Sorry. The professor said…we should both bond together without her. She said something about being a wheel?" Dimitri muttered hesitantly not quite looking at Claude. Claude's mind, however, was swimming on the implication. He calmly examined Dimitri's nervous energy and body language. Nah, there's no way right? But then again, teach has always been observant. She sees things in ways even he can't think off. Well, he glanced at the sauna room waiting for them. There's one way to check after all. 

He clapped a hand on Dimitri's back in good nature and led him to the sauna with a cheerful, "We're gonna bond so hard!" Dimitri's hesitant smile only elated Claude even more. They stepped into the changing room. Despite it being closed off from the actual sauna the heat and steam permeated the space. Claude quickly walked to the shelf containing a basket to store his clothes eager to get in. Dimitri, however, was shifting in the doorway, uneasy. 

Claude shrugged off his shirt and threw a comforting smile at Dimitri in one smooth motion. "Come now your highness. No need to be shy. We're all consenting adults here." Dimitri's head snaps to Claude and then back down the wooden floor. Hesitantly he nodded. 

"Of course…no need to be shy…none at all." He muttered. Finally, his legs cooperated enough with his willpower to walk towards the shelves. Pointedly he chose the one across Claude's. The other man stifled a laugh and resumed his stripping. Just as he finished he grabbed the provided towel and wrapped it around his waist. He turned around just in time to see Dimitri holding the sauna clothes hesitantly in his hands. 

Light blue eyes fly to his exposed body and towards the towel precariously tied low on his waist. A blush quickly filled Dimitri's cheeks. "W-what…" He stuttered out. He gestured wildly to Claude's overall being. "What are you  _ doing _ ! Put some clothes on!" 

Claude grinned. Oh, what's this? Perhaps teach is going somewhere with her on hands meddling. Teasingly he lets go the hand clutching his towel to cup his hands behind his neck. Dimitri's eyes glared even harder at his towel. Claude wasn't sure if Dimitri wanted to will it to stay on or to stay fall. Seeing the wrinkled sauna clothes clutched in Dimitri's hand Claude would like to think it's the latter. 

"Why Dimitri you must have never gone to the sauna with someone from Almyra. There we don't wear flimsy clothes! We embrace the heat with the skin of our bodies." Claude strides forward and snatches the clothes from Dimitri's hand ignoring his protests. "Come now let me have that. Useless really!" He tucked the clothes under his arm and met Dimitri's sulking glare head-on. 

"Why, is that a pout I see on your pretty lips?" Claude said teasingly. "You're not so afraid of a little heat are you Dimitri?" 

"I'm not  _ afraid _ ." He hissed. "I simply have common sense. Go…naked for all you like but leave me out of it." He makes to grab the clothes but Claude swiftly evaded. 

"Now now I know you're anxious to grab a piece of me-" Dimitri choked on air. "but I for one respect my culture and is openly sharing it to you! Now be grateful and strip." Claude more or less demanded as he threw the clothes into the laundry hamper casually without even looking. 

Dimitri looked by in resignation. "I can't believe you sometimes you know that? What if the professor intended to come with us anyway?" Claude hummed. 

"Well, I'm sure her deadpan glare and scary sword whip thingy will easily disapprove of my schemes." Dimitri’s eyes lit up and he pointed at Claude’s face with a small decisive 'Ha!' 

"So it  _ is  _ a scheme." He said smugly. 

"You've caught me." Claude shook his head in mock disappointment. Dimitri narrowed his eyes. 

"Why are you still…smirking. I won't play along with your games." 

"Well, I can't force you too of course." Claude sighed disappointedly. "I guess kitty cats just can't stand the heat." And with that, he strode over to open the door to the sauna. Dimitri's answering growl makes his lips curl up. Too easy. 

"I am no kitty cat." He said angrily. With a flourish he quickly stripped, pointedly glaring at Claude to face the wall as he stripped down his pants. Claude whistled a happy tune. "I'll show you how we in Faerghus handle heat!" He exclaimed clutching his own towel in a death grip and pushed pass Claude into the sauna. 

Too easy. Too cute. Blank faces are simply a sign of much cuter expressions buried deep inside Claude thought, amused. He followed Dimitri in and the musty air of the sauna welcomed him. The blonde had already settled down on the benches, muscles taut in restrained anticipation.  _ Cute _ , Claude thought again giddy. He settled himself next to Dimitri with barely any space between them. Dimitri pointedly shimmied away. 

"Alright let's get this started." Claude reached over and poured a generous amount of water on the hot stones. Steam immediately filled the room and brought along with it a comforting warmth. Claude leaned back his seat eyes closing in bliss. Nothing like heat to ease up his sore muscles. From the pleased groan Claude heard next to him, it seems Dimitri thinks so too. They let the steam permeate over them in comfortable silence. But of course, they had much more interesting things to do in this sauna. Like bond! And boil Dimitri alive with steam! 

"Are you ready for more?" Claude challenged. 

"Yes." Dimitri nodded seriously. He had his game face on.  _ Cute _ .  _ Stubbornly cute _ . 

Silently Claude increased the steam. The room warms. Sneaking a glance at Dimitri Claude allows himself to appreciate the man. Light complexion. Muscles crafted from long hours of training. Scars, Claude noticed quietly, marring the otherwise perfect skin. Small scars, large scars, all over Dimitri.  _ Beautiful  _ wasn't the word he thought would pop into his head but it came anyway. Tracing the scars would tell Claude all of Dimitri's story. The close calls. The accidents. The ones that gave him pride. The ones that grieved him. 

Claude eyes the scars on his back in disdain. If he was fighting with Dimitri he wouldn’t have let anything mare that skin.

Dimitri glanced at him. "What?" He self consciously tugged at his towel. 

Claude shook his head. Silently he added more water to the stones. The room got even hotter. 

The steam welled up again and this time Claude took advantage of it. Silently while Dimitri was sighing and melting into the heat, he took his hand. Dimitri's startled flinch was groggy with confusion. Claude took the hand up to his face, examining it up close. Just as he thought, more scars. Calluses too. Battle harden hands. In a flash, the hand was taken away from him. Ah, what a shame. 

"Getting grabby Claude?" Dimitri growled. He cradled the hand close to his chest like Claude threatened to bite it off. Claude threw a mischievous smile. 

"Well teach did say we needed to bond. I hardly think you would be interested in talking about your feelings?" Claude looked at Dimitri expectedly. He got an eyebrow raised in response. "Right. So I thought I would just get to know you myself. Seeing is believing and all that."

Dimitri's eyes flit to his hands. "And what do your eyes tell you?" 

"That you're too serious. And that you should talk about your feelings more. And that you're overworked and should probably join Claude at the sauna more." Dimitri snorted and through the steam, he could see his lips forming the word 'ridiculous'. Claude grinned. "Also you should use more hand creams." And ah, that's the scowl he was waiting for.

"Feelings," Dimitri said out loud. "It's not like I don't have any. Rather I have too much, and it's far too complicated. Eating is simple. Hunting. Training." He counted them off with his fingers.  _ What about killing _ , Claude quietly thought.  _ You seem at ease with it more and more _ . 

Instead, he said, "This can be simple. Us, I mean. You don't even have to talk. I'll graciously provide that part." Claude gestured towards the hot stones and hesitant Dimitri nodded. It seems victory is at hand after all. Grinning he added more steam. "I won't ask us to be the best of friends. I just think we can come to…trust one another. At least so we can have each other's backs out there."

Dimitri's skin started to turn a pretty shade of pink. His shoulders covered in a layer of sweat. Claude wanted to bite into it. Sink his teeth on the soft skin and make a few scars of his own. 

_ Whoa  _ where did that come from? Claude rubbed his hand over his face. He resisted the urge to groan. He sunk his fingernails to his thighs. Teach you really have a knack for matchmaking huh? Should we just open a matchmaking parlor and get crazy rich instead of getting stabbed with pointy things? 

"Trust huh." Dimitri's voice drags him back. The blonde was sweating all over. Claude wanted to lick him. Hoo boy. His eyes drift down to Dimitri's towel. Claude wanted to rip it off him.  _ Oh, Hilda, I'm way over my head. This plan is backfiring like my shooting _ .

Dimitri's face suddenly peers close. "Claude? You okay there? Not doing too hot?" Claude blinked. Why, is that a smile on Dimitri's face? Teasing? Dimitri teasing him? It's more likely than you think! He smiled. Maybe the sauna does bond people together.

"Not at all my friend." He sees Dimitri's surprise on the last word. "In fact why don't I add more steam?" He grabs the ladle and pours more water. Steam, even more than before, fills the room. It's nearly suffocatingly hot. 

The temperature slows his mind and loosens his tongue. Eh, what the hell. They're both adults. They have needs. Surely Dimitri won't say not to a little…

"Hey, Dimitri I do have one more way of bonding with each other. Builds trust in a flash too." Claude offered. Now he's sweating himself. From nerves, from the heat, both. Dimitri sighed. 

"If you suggest we sing a hymn next I'm telling the professor I killed you on self-defense."

"No I wouldn't make us sing hymns. Kumbaya is much more impactful. But no singing isn't exactly what I was thinking." A warm palm slides on top of Dimitri's thigh. The blonde nearly jumps through the roof by his flinch. 

"W-what are you doing!" He asked his voice to a near shrill. Wow he's never seen someone so pink all over. 

"Physical contact. Works ten out of ten, would recommend." He shifts his body to face Dimitri. "Tell me, do you want this Dimitri?" He cups his hand on the blonde's face. He looks up to him expectantly. 

Dimitri's voice trembled. "I…you...you're really going this far for my trust? A bond?"

Claude blinked. "Well that's nice and all but. I was leaning more into 'you're really hot let's make out' and less into 'let's make out, for the good of Fodlan' which is patriotic and all but not for me." Dimitri's understanding gaze was both gratifying and terrifying. Well, either he gets decked out from the sauna or ravished out within an inch of his life. Hilda, I leave the Golden Deer in your hands! 

"Oh." Dimitri blurted out. 

"Oh? What does oh mean? Like uh oh or oh yes?"

Dimitri's hand covers the one cupping his face. "It's an oh yes." He muttered softly. A shy smile and rosy blush on his face. 

Greedy insistent hands fly towards Dimitri, clutching his shoulder and pulling him close, closer,  _ not close enough _ . Lips desperately meet each other, drifting down and wandering to uncharted skin. Soft cheeks, long arched necks, broad shoulders. Kisses peppered everywhere. Dimitri was straddling Claude over his hips flushed all over. The warmth in him wasn't from the sauna. 

Moans and groans fly in the room, broken only by the press of lips.

"Wanted…to do this…for so long." Dimitri murmured between kisses as he racked a hand across Claude's hair. Messing up the neatly arranged hair. He pulled back to appreciate the view. Claude, a panting moaning mess his neck mottled with love bites. 

Claude sucked in a breath and looked at the beauty above him. White skin covered in a pink hue, red hickeys blooming all over his neck. Desire thick in the air. 

"Dimitri…"

"Yeah…"

"I'm going to pass out."

"Mn…"

A near-death experience from overheating, a run-in with a panicked sauna employee, a trip to Manuela's infirmary, and a long arduous berating from Hanneman about  _ time and place  _ later they lay side by side on the horrid medical bed. 

They slowly glanced at each other and burst out laughing. 

Manuela kicks them out soon after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Solemnly Byleth reaches out her hand.   
> A delicate hand hesitantly takes it.   
> Finally, the circle is complete. Byleth, Edelgard, Dimitri, and Claude.   
> "Alright, everybody ready?" Claude whispers.   
> Nods all over. The hot stones sizzle out warm steam.  
> "KUMBAYA MY LORD…"


	4. Ignatz/Raphael

"I said  _ no _ Raphael." Ignatz's voice firmly rings out coupled with the monotone sound of heavy thumping. Ignatz's hands linger on the book in his hand. It was a good book, he should check it out again next time. For now, he tucks it inside the shelf with it's companions. Raphael's frustrated groan echoes loudly in the library. By now it's occupants have tire of berating him and have deigned to stay as far away from the giant who always makes a ruckus as possible. 

Ignatz reaches out to take another book from the pile held by Raphael's big hands. He hums. This one wasn't as interesting as it likes to claim in the synopsis. He tucks it firmly into the shelf. With that book taken Raphael's face finally surfaces the pile of towering books with a huff. "Goddess Ignatz did you really read all of this in a week?" 

Ignatz peered at him from under his glasses. "Well, I would have finished it in three days if  _ someone _ isn't following me around all the time." He grabs another book. Oh, this one had a great analysis of contemporary paintings. He should pick it up again next time. Raphael tilts his head in confusion. 

"Whoa, Ignatz someone's stalking you? That's scary. Just name them and I'll beat them to sense!" The blonde grinned. Ignatz felt his vein throb. One of these days he'll collapse on the infirmary from migraines created by a force of nature that is Raphael.

Ignatz grabs another book and nearly slams it into the shelf in frustration. "If you must know, the person's name is Raphael." The man blinked. Ignatz can sense the wheels on his head-turning and realization slamming through him. Raphael's mouth falls open. 

"There's someone in the monastery with my name too?  _ Wow, _ I wonder if we're alike! Maybe he's my secret twin." He said in awe. Ignatz resisted the urge to scream. 

"It  _ is _ you, you big oaf! You've been following me all week even though I've said no!" Ignatz grabs another book and groans. Not only was this a boring uninspiring 'hot take' book that was in trend these days, but it’s also viciously thick just because it can and placed in the highest part of the shelf. Ignatz looked around and up in resignation. It seems he would need to find the step ladder. 

Unless. 

Ignatz raised the heavy book up above him and stretched himself on his tippy toes. Goddess but the book is so heavy. He nearly manages it, but his feet tremble in exertion and he buckles down on himself. Ignatz closes his eyes to brace for impact with the cold hard floor. Instead, a strong warm arm wrapped around him and pulled him to an equally warm body. Ignatz's face had scrunched up to bear the pain. When what comes instead is an amused chuckle he slowly opens his eyes and looks down.  _ Muscle _ is the word that popped into his mind.  _ Strong,  _ was the second.  _ Hot _ was embarrassingly the third. 

Ignatz felt a blush climb to his face. Slowly he peered up at his savior. Raphael's easy smile is ever present. Ignatz resisted the urge to squint. It felt like looking up to the sun. If the sun was a big blonde giant on steroids. 

"Careful there friend. Wouldn't want to hurt yourself over a book. My head hurts enough just reading it!" Raphael said with a guffaw. His deep voice reverberates against his wide chest. This close, Ignatz felt the tremble climb to his back. He shivered. Raphael took his silence as an agreement and took the book from his hand. Easily he tucked the book on the gap with a single arm raise. 

Ignatz resisted the urge to pout. Tall people and their live advantages. Why he could almost go green with jealousy! Wryly he tucked his hair back. "Sorry about that Raphael. And thank you, for catching me. Height related problems always elude me." He laughs at himself. 

"Don't worry about it!" Raphael's smile widens to a grin. "We all could use help from others sometimes ."

Ignatz nodded. 

"Like how I could use your help to send a picture of me to my sis!" Raphael said with a flourish. Ignatz groaned and quickly stepped away from his grip. Honestly. 

"I said it before and I'll say it again. I don't mind drawing you. I don't mind you sending it to your sister. She's lovely!" Ignatz grabbed another book and strode over the next shelf. Raphael hurriedly followed, fumbling with the heavy books. 

"Then what's the big issue?" Raphael whined.

Ignatz shelved the book and sighed. He rested his head gently on the row of books to hide his embarrassment. "Because you are asking me to  _ draw you shirtless _ ." He whispers the words haltingly. He could feel the heat climbing to his face once again.  _ Goddess  _ even the thought of seeing Raphael shirtless is messing with his brain. He fanned himself with his hands. Cool down Ignatz cool down! 

Raphael frowned down on him. "Well, what's so bad about that? I bet sis would love to know how well my muscle training is going." 

"As if it needs any more training…" Ignatz muttered quietly. Ready for this conversation to be over with he grabs two books at the same time and hurried his steps. Raphael quickly kept up with his large gait. Ignatz feels a sudden sympathy towards Caspar's height insecurities. 

"Wait, come on Ignatz," Raphael called out. Ignatz simply grabbed another book. Raphael hisses in frustration. "Okay no more books for you!" He exclaimed and raised his hands up in the air. The pile of books along with it. Ignatz side-eyed him with a grimace. 

"Now you're just being childish. Put down those books right now." Ignatz grumbled tapping his foot impatiently. Raphael shook his head stubbornly. 

"Not until you tell me what's going on. Why do you hate the thought of drawing me so much?" He halted and hesitantly added, "Do you hate me? Did I do something wrong?" Ignatz quickly shook his head. Hate? How could he! Raphael was, despite his many oddities one of his best friends. And hate couldn't be further from what he felt for him. 

Ignatz shook his head again more firmly when Raphael looked unconvinced. "Of course I don't hate you! You're my best friend." He said gently. Raphael looks appeased. Ignatz smiled in relief. But then the giant frowned again. 

"So why are you so against drawing me?" He accused with a pout. Ignatz looked up at the book held up high with a sigh. Clearly, Raphael wasn't going to let this go anytime soon.

"I'm not comfortable at drawing you half-naked alright?" Ignatz said. He made to grab the books. "Now hand me those. I still have books I need to borrow." Slowly Raphael's hand lower along with his expression. Oh no. Please. 

Raphael's eyes look watery as he dejectedly held the books lower. "Not comfortable? I don't see why you would be. I must have done something to make you uncomfortable didn't I?" Ignatz bit his lip. Seeing Raphael upset was wrong. The blonde shouldn't ever have to frown. He should always have a smile on his face. Happy was the expression best suited for Raphael. Anything less would be an error in the world. 

Already he could feel himself softening. He took in a deep breath. The musty air and dampness of the library settles his nerves. The familiar scent grounds him. "Okay Raphael okay. If it means that much to you I'll do it." Raphael's eyes immediately light up. Ignatz's heart clench in response. 

"Really? But you said-" Ignatz shook his head and grabbed another book. 

"I'll…I'll deal with it. Don't worry okay? You didn't do anything." Ignatz flashes him an easy smile and tucks another book on his shelf. Raphael struggles with himself before his usual smile returns. There, all was right in the world again. 

"Alright, Ignatz if you say so." 

"I know so."

They share a fond smile. They continue down the rows of shelves talking about nothing and everything. Ignatz's heart lightens with every shared laughter. Distracted he reaches out to take another book. Only his hand meets something firm instead. Ignatz absent-mindedly strokes it. "Raphael? Why are you holding on the book-" 

Ignatz looks back and pauses. Oh. He looks at his traitorous hand. That's not a book. He glances up to meet Raphael's eyes. The blonde tilted his head with his usual easy smile. "You're out of books Ignatz." Ignatz flinched and his hand flew back in a flash. 

"S-sorry. Anyway, um. Tomorrow, meet me at my room as usual." Ignatz stutters out. He nervously pats down his clothes. "Well, gotta go! Places to meet, people to go!" He says with a shrill and all but runs away from Raphael. 

Raphael blinked as his eyes follow Ignatz's retreating form. It feels oddly like old times. He runs his hand over his hair and shrugged. No use thinking too much. He should train some more and prep his muscle for tomorrow's sketch!

Outside the library, Ignatz was running away as quickly as his feet could take him. He held his burning cheeks with his hands.  _ It was so firm _ Ignatz thought hysterically.  _ So firm _ ! Just one touch was enough to drive Ignatz to the wall. He doesn't think his sanity could withstand the disaster that is tomorrow. He hit his head repeatedly. Stupid stupid stupid! I'll deal with it? Yeah right. The only thing he'll be dealing with is Raphael's inevitable disappointment when Ignatz fails to even look at him properly, much less sketch him. 

Suddenly he runs into something firm and balks from the impact. A small 'whoops' alerts him of what he ran into. Or rather, who. 

Ignatz glanced up sheepishly. "Sorry about that Claude." His house leader's easy smile comforts him. 

"Not to worry Ignatz. Did you have somewhere to go? Do you really have to pee?" Ignatz snorted and shook his head with a smile. Claude chuckled. "No? Then why are you giving our house a run for it's name?"

"Uh…" Ignatz shifted on his feet. "Was running away from an awkward situation actually." He peered up at Claude shyly. Claude was the most socially confident person he knew. He could talk his way out of anything. If he was kidnapped he'd talk their ears out, charm them, make them fall in love with him, and he'll probably be released with nothing more than a pat on the back. 

"My my running you say?" Claude's eyes glint dangerously. "Is anyone giving you a tough time? Cuz I can stick this arrow where the sun doesn’t shine. Just name the name!" He waved an arrow he pulled out of nowhere menacingly. 

Ignatz quickly shook his head. "No no it's nothing like that. It's just…Raphael." He sighed out. Claude raised an eyebrow and tucked back his arrow. 

"Raphael?" Ignatz nodded. He summarized Raphael's request. And his own…reluctance. Claude nodded and hummed along. 

"Well, Ignatz." He put his hand on Ignatz's shoulder. "If you want Raphael to understand how you feel, you should give him as much as he gives you." The green-haired man tilted his head in thought. 

"Give him…?" 

Claude grinned. "Here's the plan."

The next day Raphael made his way to Ignatz's quarters. He knocked on the door. No response. Hm, well Ignatz wouldn't mind him helping himself to the door. He strode in confidently. 

Ignatz's dorm room was like Raphael's own. A bed, a desk pushed to the side, a bulletin board pinned on the wall. Only Raphael's neighbor had decorated it with sketches and artwork. And propped in the middle was an easel and next to it, a small desk filled with a jar of water, colorful paints, brushes, and charcoal. 

Raphael looked around and grinned when he found what he was looking for. A small wooden stool was tucked in the corner. He dragged it close in front of the easel set up in the middle of the room. He hummed a small tune as he waited, tapping a rhythm with his hand against his thigh. Raphael always found Ignatz's room to be comforting. It's covered all over with Ignatz's current passion project. 

One time he became fond of finger painting and his fingers were always stained a pretty color. Along with it came a constant smudge left all around his room. The day of Raphael's weekly sketch session that month was shyly offered to be turned into a finger painting session. They spent the better half of that day bent over a canvas, staining their fingers red, blue, yellow, and all the colors in between. Raphael ended up sending his sister a messily painted flower field, though the half Ignatz helped him on was much better. She excitedly told him she framed the painting carefully on the sitting room on her next letter. 

Now it seems Ignatz's passion has gone to anatomical studies. Raphael eyed the sketches of toned muscles and soft body lines in interest. A few moments later Ignatz strode in, a sketchpad in hand and his hair a bit ruffled. "Oh sorry Raphael! Hope you didn't wait long." Ignatz smiled apologetically. "Just had to grab a fresh pad before it sold out."

Raphael nodded in understanding. "Don't worry about it! So is this where you want me?" Ignatz nodded distractedly. He quickly set his things down and settled himself behind the easel. 

"Yeah, just like usual! Except for um-the part where you take off…your shirt." Ignatz finished lamely. Raphael grinned. 

"Thought you might never ask!" Raphael's fingers nimbly started to undo his buttons. Ignatz's eyes track them closely, but when Raphael looked up the green-haired man had looked away to the windows. "Alright, I'm ready." Raphael said at last as he shrugged his shirt off to the floor. Ignatz glanced back at him. 

"O-oh." Ignatz murmured. His eyes dance on the expanse of Raphael's exposed body. Goddess Raphael looks even more toned and muscled and  _ handsome _ than he imagined. He looks at the large biceps. The wide shoulders. The packed abdomen. Even his chest has filled. Ignatz gulped. He wanted nothing more than to run his hand through Raphael's muscle.

As expected Raphael looked unbothered with his body raked over by Ignatz's hungry eyes. He threw another easy grin. "Well, whenever you're ready!" Ignatz should nod. He should smile back. Instead he chokes on his saliva. Raphael's eyes widened in concern. "Goddess Ignatz are you alright? You're really red too. Are you running a fever?"

Ignatz shook his head in the midst of his coughing feat. Finally, he sucked in a deep breath. Claude convinced him this would work, and that it would be worthwhile. He silently nodded to himself. He looked up at Raphael's concerned gaze and hesitantly smiled. "Oh no, I feel fine. It's just…" He glanced meaningfully at the window. "It's a rather hot day isn't it?" 

Raphael blinked. "Well it is quite warm."

Ignatz nodded and bit his lip. "It might be too hot for me to even concentrate on drawing."

"Hmm…oh I know I'll get us some ice tea!" Raphael made to get up. Ignatz waved his hand rapidly. 

"N-no need! No need for that. I have a way of cooling down myself if you don't mind." Raphael's easy nod and innocent grin made Ignatz hesitate. Was Claude's plan really going to work? He highly doubts it. Then again, Claude is a master at schemes, tricks, and any kind of manipulation. 

_ Well only one way to find out _ , Ignatz thought nervously. "Alright then." His fingers fiddled with his shirt button. "Excuse me." He mumbled quietly. Quickly before he can change his mind he unbuttons his shirt. Avoiding Raphael's curious eyes he manages to fully unbutton his shirt. The summer breeze flows by the window and Ignatz shivers. 

"Oh you're going to take your shirt off too?" Raphael questioned. Ignatz gave a barest of nod. He made to shrug his shirt off but he glanced at Raphael sitting across from him. His easy smile still plastered on his face but now with a glint of curiosity. Ignatz clutched at his shirt. He doesn't think he can bear that eyes on him when he's so…bare. Blood rushes to his cheeks. Goddess, the whole point of this was to make Raphael conscious of his shameless behavior not him! 

He inwardly shook his head. Let's just stop for now. Sorry, Claude, it was a solid plan though! 

"N-no I'll just…open it for now," Ignatz said with an awkward chuckle. Where did all his courage run off now? He quickly fumbles with his sketchpad and grabs a pencil. "Sorry about that. Let's get started." Raphael nodded. And then he strikes an elaborate pose, flexing his muscles to the brim. His proud face beams at Ignatz. 

"What do you think Ignatz, amazing isn't it! Nearly didn't sleep making this pose!" Raphael grunts out a laugh. Ignatz's hand tremble. The pose is quite something. Raphael's arms are curved in front of him and the muscles are so pulled Ignatz could see the veins. With the sun shining from the windows, Raphael makes a vision of an ethereal God.  _ A war God _ , Ignatz's mind supplies. Hardened by war. Could crack open my head with his palm. 

The thought shouldn't excite him, but it did. Ignatz wanted to laugh. Goddess this man has broken his mind. Raphael's smile turns into a pout when Ignatz doesn't reply. "Aw you don't like it? I was so confident with this one." 

_ A God of war _ , Ignatz thinks wildly.  _ Savage in battle _ . _ Soft with his lovers _ . Ignatz's cheeks turn redder. He shook his head to clear it. He quicks to pacify Raphael. "I-I love it! It's great! What a great pose!"  _ I love it a little too much in fact _ . Raphael's easy smile returns. 

"Great! I'll leave you to it then!" 

Ignatz nodded. He opens the sketchpad and runs his hand through the paper. He rushed to get this one from the market today. It's the highest grade of paper, very expensive. He knows Raphael doesn't notice, but he always splurges his money to buy the best medium when he draws or paints Raphael.  _ Gone, _ Ignatz thought with a sigh,  _ so gone for this man _ . He brings over his pencil and sketched out the first few lines. 

He glances up to see Raphael from time to time but he quickly bends down when the blonde looks up. His sketches suffer the consequences. It's hardly coming together, just a bunch of rough lines and hardly depicting Raphael's pose as it should be. He lets out a frustrated groan. He rips out the paper and crushes it into a ball and throws it to the corner of the room. Just as quickly he dives into the next page. Raphael looks at the crumpled paper with a frown. 

He opens his mouth to say something but clamps it shut when he sees Ignatz's expression. His mouth is twisted, eyebrows drawn, and nose scrunched up. A one minded determination set in his focused sketch. Raphael smiles instead. Ignatz always has this expression when he's in an art rut. But from it, comes artworks he's most proud of. He settles back in his chair. Best let Ignatz do his work in peace. 

The room is silent besides the comforting sound of pencil meeting paper. Raphael's eyes grow tired and he blinks rapidly. Today's sketch seems to draw on longer than usual. His eyes caught to the pile of paper crumpled up on the floor. He sighs. Ignatz's face had twisted even more. His hair is rumpled and a pencil is tucked on his ear. His open shirt makes for an even more vivid image of a struggling artist. 

Raphael nodded to himself. Best to put this to an end before Ignatz stresses himself to the ground. He stands up with a huff and stretches out his hand above his head. It's gone quite sore from his pose. Lugging around Ignatz's books around all around the monastery was quite the exercise too. He groans in satisfaction. The sound seems to snap Ignatz's concentration and his head snapped up. 

"Don't  _ move _ ." He nearly growled pointing his pencil on Raphael. "I am not  _ finished _ ."

Raphael gulps. He raises his hands in front of him like he's soothing a cornered beast. "Alright calm down Ignatz. I'm just going over there okay? Help you out a little." He slowly walks over to stand beside Ignatz. The green-haired man was looking more and more dissatisfied at the drawing in his hands. He ripped the page away and made to crumple it before Raphael's hand halt it. "Whoa there let's stop the dead tree abuse for now. Let's see…" He smooths out the paper and peers at it. 

It's a sketch of him, obviously. His face is a mirror image of him. Ignatz even managed to draw the crow lines around his eyes and the dimple of his cheeks. But a glance down alerts him of Ignatz's frustration. It's a soft sketch of his body. The lines are careful and calculated. Ignatz must have paused and examined his body over and over to get it right. Still, it lacks Ignatz's usual charm. It lacks the charm of his muscles! 

Ignatz grabs the paper and crumples it viciously. "Don't look at that. It's trash." He mumbled and threw it to the floor. He held his head in his hand. "I'm sorry Raphael. I just…I just can't draw…" He gestured to Raphael's body wildly. " _ This _ ." He sighed mournfully at the blank paper. He must have gone through half of the paper already. 

Raphael put a comforting hand on Ignatz's shoulder. "Oh, it's not that bad! You just need to familiarize yourself with my body!" Ignatz sputtered a shrill  _ what _ as Raphael grabbed his hand. "Come on, don't be shy!" He grabbed Ignatz's limp hand and put it resolutely on his abdomen. "There just feel it. Then put it to drawing!" 

Ignatz's hand twitch weakly. Slowly he turns on his seat to face Raphael. The blonde smiles and nods. Ignatz’s hand trembles as he put down his pencil and sketchpad. Slowly, he brings both his hand on Raphael. The skin is warmer than he thought. Firm, unyielding. A restrained power beneath them. 

Ignatz gulped. He avoids Raphael's eyes as his hands wander and grow bolder. He strokes Raphael's biceps, in awe of it's size. It might even be wider than his face! He clutches in reverently and studies the way it flexes. He runs his hand all over, studying the veins faintly there. He looks up at Raphael pleadingly. The blonde grinned and made a quick flex. 

Ignatz gasped appreciatively and traced the arm once again. He nods to himself and murmurs a few commentaries here and there. Raphael even hears him say  _ fascinating  _ at some point. He scratches his face in a rare show of shyness. Ignatz had all but stood up draping himself over Raphael running his hand all over the man. His open shirt peeks through to an expanse of white skin. Raphael hums in appreciation. It seems Ignatz had his fair share of training as well. He could see the signs of defined muscle coming through. 

Absent-mindedly he reaches out and traces his hand over Ignatz's chest. Sadly the muscle here isn't quite defined yet. Ignatz let out a gasp and his fingers accidentally brush over Raphael's nipple. The blonde gasp. He was quite sensitive there despite his constant training and muscle building. Ignatz's eyes fly up to meet his. He bit his lower lip hard. 

"Sorry…" He murmured and drew back releasing his hold on Raphael and in turn his hold on Ignatz. Raphael blinked. He clenches his hand distractedly. He found that he quite missed the feeling of Ignatz's skin. The green-haired man peered up at him from under his glasses. "Um…did you want to see my muscle too?" He jokes. "I don't really have any yet. My strongest muscle is probably my wrist." He lifts up his right hand shyly.

Raphael shook his head. "Nothing to be ashamed of my friend! You're growing stronger every day, I can feel it!" Ignatz smiled and nodded. Raphael's eyes are drawn to the pale wrist Ignatz held up and he quietly took it on his hand. Ignatz's questioning glance is ignored for a more thorough examination of his hand. It's filled with calluses, from training and holding his pencil and brushes. Raphael rubbed them with his bigger hand. Such a small hand that creates such beautiful artwork. And shoot such deadly shots with a bow. 

He glances up to meet Ignatz's eyes. "You shouldn't put yourself down like that Ignatz. You're one of the strongest people I know! And talented." He added teasingly. Ignatz's smile brightens but he shook his head sadly.

"I can't even draw you properly. I'm not even sure this helps." He murmurs rubbing Raphael's hand back. Raphael frowned. 

"Maybe my muscle isn't enough! You should get to know your muscles too!" Raphael exclaimed excitedly. 

"Wuh-" 

Raphael's hand makes quick work of the shirt covering Ignatz and his upper body is displayed. Ignatz gasped and quickly covered himself with his hands. " _ Raphael _ ." He hissed. His cheeks have turned into a pretty red color. Raphael grinned. 

"Why are you hiding? Come on, you look good!" And he does. The sun shines are casting a golden hue to Ignatz's skin. In this light, Raphael can even see the freckles dusting Ignatz's otherwise unmarked skin. They're small and few but they’re all the same. Raphael could probably connect them to some sort of constellation if he could borrow Ignatz's marker. 

Ignatz’s hand only clutch himself harder and he glared at Raphael. "You might have no problem showing your body but I do!" He turns around to show his back to Raphael. "Now hand me back my shirt!" 

Raphael pouted. "But why? You were really weird about me stripping too. Are you so shy about showing yourself?" 

Ignatz sighed. "Yes okay, I'm really shy about it."

"But why?" Raphael scratched his head in wonder. "You're beautiful."

Ignatz stilled. His blood rushes so fast that even his shoulder blush red. "W-what…you can't just say that!" He snaps but he doesn't move to face Raphael. He can't. He might light on fire if he faces Raphael while he says those words. Maybe catch a heart attack or two while he's at it. 

"Why not?" 

"W-well…" Ignatz trailed off. "You just can't!" 

Raphael grunts in complain. "I don't get it! Why can't I call you beautiful?" 

"Because!" Ignatz shouted as he faced Raphael. He faltered when he sees Raphael's confused expression. "Because…I'll get the wrong idea." He finished lamely. He sighs and bends over to pick up his shirt. "And you shouldn't say that to just anyone either."  _ Please don't please don't please _ . 

Raphael tilted his head. "Wrong idea? What idea is that?" 

Ignatz's hand fly up in exasperation. "That you actually like me! And while I'm at it you shouldn't show your body to anyone either." Ignatz says angrily. "And for Goddess's sake buy a shirt your size for once. And stop letting everyone touch you!"

Raphael blinked. "But I do like you?" 

Ignatz shook his head. "Not like this. Not like how I like you."

They both pause. Ignatz’s hand fly to cover his mouth. His stupid  _ traitorous  _ mouth. 

"You like  _ like  _ me?" Raphael said slowly like the words aren't supposed to go together. 

Ignatz shivers under Raphael's unyielding stare. Self consciously he shrugs on his shirt and clutches his arm. "Mm…it's why I've been saying no to drawing you half-naked. I won't be able to get my head straight." He tilts his head to the trash under him sadly. "I didn't want to take advantage of you too."

Raphael's mouth opens then closes. Then opens again. No words come out of it no matter how hard he tries. He closes it again. 

Ignatz shuffles awkwardly in place. "I was tired of you not noticing too. That's why I…planned to strip myself too. Hoping you'll at least be conscious of me. Or yourself." The green-haired man coughed lightly. "Obviously didn't work, because why would it? You don't even look at me that way."

Raphael frowned. "Hey now don't put yourself down like that. I might not be shy about showing my body, but that doesn't mean I don't appreciate how good you look."

Ignatz's small hands run through his hair in defeat. "I don't see why you would. I'm thin and scrawny. I can't even be on the front lines with everyone else. I'm always dragging everybody else back."

Raphael clutched Ignatz's shoulder. "Ignatz. You're a valuable member of our house! Your sniping skills are  _ amazing _ . It's not that you can't, it's that you don't  _ have _ to be on the front lines." He lightly shakes Ignatz. "You keep our behinds safe, literally!" 

Ignatz shakes his head stubbornly. "You're just saying that to make me feel better. I've just been pretending. Pretending I'm good enough for the army. Good enough to make art." He snorts. "Good enough for you."

"Stop it! You don't mean that. You are good enough Ignatz. You're one of the best people I've ever met in my life!" 

"You must not meet a lot of people." Ignatz picks a pencil from behind his ear. He fiddles with it solemnly. "I am not a good man. I took advantage of my friend's request to draw him to ogle at him and fill my twisted desires." He clenches the hand holding the pencil. "Worse, I can't even draw decently enough to make it worth his time. Pathetic."

Raphael's hands tremble in anger. "Stop it right now Ignatz. Not another word of-of self pity!" 

"Why do you care?" Ignatz sighs. "It's best you cut ties with me as soon as possible."

Abruptly a large hand covers his mouth. Ignatz blinked. It was warm but firm. Unyielding. It wasn't going to move anytime soon. Ignatz looked at Raphael in question. He startled when he met Raphael's full-blown glare. He's never seen the blonde so angry. Annoyed, yes when he runs out of the special dish from the hall that day. Annoyed when he doesn't land his crits. 

Annoyed when his injuries stop him from training harder, faster, better. Heck, even annoyed because he's been reading the same paragraph over and over again but it still doesn't stick. But no never anger. Unwillingly fear bubbles in Ignatz's stomach. Was he going to deck Ignatz for liking him? He wouldn't be the type but Ignatz wouldn't blame him. Even he wouldn't want someone like himself thirsting over…well, him.

The hold on his shoulder tightens and the hand presses insistently on Ignatz's mouth. "I hate when people bad mouth my friends. And that includes when they bad mouth themselves." Raphael says. 

Ignatz shakes his head ready to argue. Badmouth? Please. It was the truth! Plain and simple. He was useless once again, with his feelings and his so called artistic talent. Raphael however would not have it. 

"I hate it even more when someone I like gets insulted." He says firmly. Ignatz blinked. He sputters under Raphael's hand words spilling out of him nonsensically. Raphael raised an eyebrow. "What you're shocked? I thought you were the smart one here. Of course I like you Ignatz!" 

The green-haired man covered his hand over Raphael's large one and managed to pry it away. "Like me!" He exclaimed self consciously. "Why would you even like me! I don't even like me sometimes!" 

Raphael groans. "Don't put words in my mouth. Just because I'm dumb doesn't mean I don't know how I feel." He clutches Ignatz's elbow and calmly looks at him. "Ignatz I like you too okay? You're sweet, you're kind, you're talented. Deadly with a bow too."

Ignatz bows his head in embarrassment. "I'm none of those things Raphael. You just like the idea of me."

"It's not like you're perfect. For one you're so stubborn that I want to rip my hair out. You also demean yourself for no reason. When you have an art rut you hole up in your room for days refusing to eat until you make the perfect painting." Raphael shakes his head. "Remember when you drank dirty paint water instead of your tea?" His face scrunched up. "Yuck."

Ignatz finally giggled at that. "That was pretty stupid of me."

Raphael glared. Ignatz sputtered. 

"I-I mean clumsy. Clumsy of me yes!" 

Raphael nodded in satisfaction. Ignatz sighed in relief. 

"That's what I mean when I say I like you. I know you, Ignatz. Inside and out. And I like you." He cups Ignatz's face gently. "And if I'm right, so do you. We both like each other. So stop fighting with yourself and start…" He trails off then grins. "Loving yourself!" 

Ignatz smiled sadly. "That's tougher than it sounds, honestly." 

"Oh don't worry I'll help you. I'm an expert you see." Raphael says smugly. Ignatz's heart lightens and he chuckles lowly. 

"Oh you are, are you?" 

Raphael nods. "I can start now in fact. I'll show you how much I like you." His strong hands wrap around Ignatz and he gasps as he's pulled closer. The warmth of Raphael's body is comforting. The width of it is tantalizingly bare, like an untouched canvas. Ignatz glances up in wonder. Goddess every inch of this man was brimming with power. But that smile…it was brimming with gentleness. 

Ignatz suddenly feels like crying. Raphael hummed in satisfaction as Ignatz presses close to him. He tilts Ignatz's head up and leans down close. He presses a thumb and traces it over Ignatz's lower lip. In a moment of insanity, Ignatz parts his lips to let it in. 

Raphael groans appreciatively. "Beautiful." He murmurs and Ignatz flushes. Slowly he presses down on Ignatz's lips. "Can I….?" He trails off. Ignatz gives an excited nod. He wants nothing more at this moment. Raphael grins. And then promptly presses his lips to Ignatz's. 

They’re inexperienced, clumsy as to be expected. But what they lack in experience they compensate with eagerness. Raphael's deep groan sends shivers down Ignatz's spine. The blonde's hand clutches Ignatz's jaw, his neck, and trails down to his hips pulling him closer and closer. They barely part for air, and when they finally do they're panting in exhaustion. But on their faces, identical to each other, is a big goofy sappy and absolutely besotted grin. 

Sunset dyed Ignatz's room shades of red and orange. Ignatz and Raphael sat across each other, so close that they merely have to reach out to touch the other. Raphael sat shirtless, posing again. Ignatz had somehow ended up wearing Raphael's shirt instead to the blonde's delight. The scratches of pencil filled the silence. 

"Oh, I'm done!" Ignatz said in delight. He proudly presented it to Raphael. "What do you think?" Even in his excitement he still feels nervous. Foolish, how could his art ever be anything but

"Beautiful." Raphael murmured looking at Ignatz with a fond smile. "Oh and the art's great as always!" 

Ignatz sputtered and covered his face with the sketchpad. Smooth, too smooth! Raphael laughed and put a hand on Ignatz's knee, warm and comforting. "How about you draw yourself next to me this time? I'm sure my sis would love to see my boyfriend too!" 

Ignatz shifted in his seat, and peered up at Raphael. "Why don't you draw me? I'm sure you know how I look better." Raphael's pleased grin soothed Ignatz's worry. 

"Heck yeah gimme that pencil!" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maya excitedly grabbed the newest letter from her brother right from the post man's hand and shouted a quick thank you! She closed the door before he could even response and excitedly ripped open the envelope. Two papers were stuffed together and she hurriedly sat down to read the letter first. She squealed when she got to the part of the story where his brother now has a boyfriend. A boyfriend! Then her hands quickly opens the other paper and smooths it out carefully. Then, she snorted. 
> 
> It was Raphael beautifully drawn, light hitting off his body delicately. Maya made a fascinated sound at the detail in her brother's muscles. My, he's certainly been bulking up! But the drawing next to it sends Maya to giggles. It's what appears to be an attempt of drawing Ignatz, but the squiggles are wobbly. It turns into a somewhat familiar stick man. However lovingly put around the drawing are little hearts. Maya made a content sound and glanced around the living room. Another art to frame and add to the decor!


	5. Caspar/Linhardt

It's summer, the heat is unbearable, and even Caspar had forego any jacket and long pants for a thin shirt and shorts. It barely does anything but he's going madder and madder with every rise of temperature. And then Petra walks by and nearly trips on him. She grunts as she barely catches herself. The blue lump under her grunts back undeterred. 

"Caspar." Her foot nudged at his limp body. 

He grunts again. 

"I wish to use the training grounds. You are in my road."

Caspar rolls his head to squint up at her. "Just go around me…" He tucks his head back and buries it under the cold inviting tiles. Petra nudges him again. 

"Please move or I will remove you."

He whines at that and clings to her foot. "No please don't remove me. Just take me out!" 

Petra shakes her leg harder. "With a sword or on a date?" 

Caspar sobs. "Anything to get me away from this demonic heat! I can't even train, everyone's too hot to bother and I can barely think." Caspar rolls away from one of Petra's particularly energetic kicks. 

Petra sighs and nudges at Caspar. "I shall help you to get rid of you." 

Caspar looks up and beams at her. "Annoying people to get what I want is so effective!" He props himself up on his elbows. He's learned a thing or two from his childhood friend after all. "So what's the plan ma'am?" 

She peers up to the sky. "I hear Lindhardt is sleeping around under a certain tree and under a certain field. I also hear he's capable in all sorts of magic. Like wind."

Caspar gasped and rolled to his back. "That's where he is? Gosh his camouflage is getting better and better."

Petra shakes her head. "Please run away before I stab you with my sword." Now she's poking with something considerably sharper. 

"Woah there you missed that chance before. No take backs! I'm certified Petra-death proof!" He hops himself into standing up. "Alright I'm going now bye Petra!" He pets her sword warily and points it away from him. 

She shakes her head at his retreating form with an exasperated smile. In one swift move she holsters her sword. 

The tree comes to view after a light jog. Even when he's only covered a short distance Caspar is still sweating buckets. He heaves as he arrives to the tree. True to her words a dark green color pops out from the sea of lush grass. Caspar grins. "Linhardt! There you are!" 

The curled up form doesn't even flinch. Caspar frowns. He pokes at Lindhardt's shoulder insistently. "Lindhardtttt…wake up! I'm hot!" Linhardt merely grunts and faces away from Caspar. The blue-haired man pouts. "Ignoring me huh. You're not gonna like what I'm gonna do!" Caspar warns. 

Linhardt ignores him. He even fakes a snore. Caspar's eye twitch. With a huff he walks around to crouch next to Lindhardt's other side. He pokes at Lindhardt's cheeks. The soft skin plies easily under his finger. Caspar pushes the soft cheeks around bending Linhardt's expressions. He pushes the cheek up wrinkling his eyes. He pulls down and makes a frown. Caspar snickers. "Linhardt come onnn I'm like this close to poking your eyes out! You don't want me to poke your eyes out do you?" 

Lindhardt growls and lazily swats at Caspar's finger. He reminds Caspar of the lazy cats sleeping all over the monastery. Spoiled rotten by professor Byleth and other feline lovers. They don't even have to steal food these days. They just lay on their backs and bat their soft paws and suddenly everyone is shoving dry fish on their faces.

Lindhardt's fingers have now enveloped his finger loosely. Caspar tries to wriggle them out but Lindhardt tenses just enough to keep him still. He sighs and shakes his head. One of this days Linhardt will manage to master sleep-walking and sleep researching on stubbornness alone. And Caspar will truly lose his best friend to dreamland. 

He shakes his head. No way he's going to be defeated by that. There's no him in Lindhardt's dreamland, and that's just tragic. He looks down at his trapped finger. "I didn't wash my hands after I peed." He said in a sing-song voice. In a flash, Lindhardt threw his finger away. 

"Yuck." The green-haired man muttered. Caspar lets out an 'aha'! 

"You're awake now come on! Open your eyes at least you old man." Lindhardt sniffs. He points to Caspar's general direction. 

"Short people have no authority over me."

Caspar sputters. "We've been through this! Height doesn't matter!" 

Lindhardt smirks. "Sure does from up here."

"You're not even standing up! You're horizontal! And you haven't opened your eyes!" Lindhardt chuckles and settles more comfortably against the tree stump. 

"How about you lie down too then." He offers as he pats the ground next to him. Caspar eyes it. Well, it is shaded by the tree. And it feels cooler too. Lindhardt seems to be having the time of his life down there too. 

"Fine I will!" Caspar exclaims and sits down on the grass. He eyes the grass behind him and runs a hand over it. Well at least it's dry. He hesitantly lies down. His eyesight shifts into the large tree above them. It's lush, the leaves and branches rustle quietly as an occasional wind passes through. Caspar squirms in place. 

He waits for another breeze to come by but nothing passes through besides another glare of sunshine. Caspar groans. "Goddess Lindhardt it's hot even under this tree-are you literally asleep already?" Caspar balks as he turns to Lindhardt. The green-haired man snores in reply. 

Caspar sighs in annoyance. He shifts his body into his side to face Lindhardt fully. "Look at you still dressed in your robes." He eyes the suffocatingly long green robe Lindhardt wears. Goddess he must be sweating all over and he's still too lazy to take it off. He brings his hand up and strokes Lindhardt's face. He blinks in surprise. 

"You're not even sweating? Did you cast a wind spell before you fell asleep?" Caspar asked in disbelief. Lindhardt lightly leaned to the touch. 

"No, I just don't move. Just stay still and it won't be so hot." Caspar held his face and stroked it again in awe. 

"You amaze me sometimes Lindhardt." Caspar mock whispers. "Are you sure you're human?" 

Lindhardt bats at his hand. "It's logical idiot. Knowing you, you must've tried to train through the heat and passed out on the training grounds." Caspar's hold tenses. He blushed at being so predictable. 

"Well, I didn't  _ pass out _ ." Lindhardt raised an eyebrow. How does he even do that without opening his eyes! Scary! "Okay I didn't pass out  _ completely _ . Just saw really colorful lights in my vision for a while." 

Lindhardt sighs and touches the hand holding his face. He winces. "You're so warm. Did you not cool yourself down before going here?" 

Caspar shakes his head and belatedly realizes Lindhardt wouldn't see. "Nah. Petra finally gave me a lead on where you were so I ran over before you could crawl to your next nap spot." 

Cold slim hands settle on his warm cheeks. Caspar leaned to it and hummed happily. Lindhardt's blood always ran cold, even on the hottest days. Caspar suspects he must've invented some new variation of a blizzard spell but was too lazy to publish it. Lindhardt strokes his cheeks before he mutters a small wind spell. A soft breeze appeared and instantly they were surrounded by cool air. Caspar whoops happily. 

Caspar's skin had cooled down significantly and he settled in the grass. He opened his mouth to thank Lindhardt but paused when he felt sweat trickling down the green-haired man's face. He wiped it away in concern. "Lindhardt you okay? You said you wouldn't sweat?" 

Lindhardt shook his head. "Magic. Moved. Tired." He grunts sloppily. He was still sweating as he shuffles uncomfortably. He must be struggling to fall asleep again from the heat. 

Caspar bit his lip in guilt. He had rushed over here with the intention to pester Linhardt into spelling him a breeze or two. Now he was awake and clearly uncomfortable. Caspar droops his head. "M'sorry Lin, I really bothered you huh. Here I'll find a leaf and fan you to sleep!" 

He makes to stand up but a Lindhardt's arm pins him down. "Stop. Don't even. I get tired just thinking about you running around for a leaf."

Caspar pouts. "I can find it easy! You have no faith in me."

Lindhart smacked Caspar's arm. "Of course I don't what are you a God?" 

"I could be!" Lindhardt snorts. "Oh come on! I'll make a great God!" 

Lindhardt shakes his head amused. "Oh, and what God would you want to be?" 

Caspar hums. "A God of victory? Fighting spirit?" 

"Caspar the God of fighting spirit just doesn't rhyme." Lindhardt yawns. Goddess even his yawns are small and effortless. Caspar inwardly shakes his head. Big yawns are clearly better and much more satisfying. Especially ones that pull your jaw to the limit. 

"Caspar the God of victory it is!" 

"Not the God of war?" Linhardt muses.

He pauses. He glances at Linhardt's tired form curled on the green grass. His hair was still tied up, his robes still on. A quick glance and Caspar can see stains of charcoal on his hand. His sleeves stained with odd colored potions and whatever concoction he cooks up in his room. His cheeks are marred by sleep lines. Probably from sleeping over one of his thick books. 

The most prevalent is the growing eye bags he sports. Caspar shook his head. That was just wrong. There shouldn't be a reality where Lindhardt would fall short of sleep. It's just not right. 

The war has taken a toll on him. He's used to long days of research with no sleep and long periods of sleep marathons. But these days the war pressure him to unknown bounds. His knowledge, his research, his magic. Every part of him was for the war and the alliance's cause. He's so exhausted that he's fallen asleep right on the ground without even cleaning himself up. 

And here he was striding over and disturbing his sleep and pushing him to cast spells. Caspar berates himself in guilt. Some friend he is. So no, he doesn't want to be a God of war. 

"I think the war has taken enough of us." He holds Lindhardt's hand.  _ It's taken enough _ , Caspar thought grimly. And he won't let it take anymore. No more, no more. He eyes the furrow on Lindhardt's brow. No more. 

Lindhardt hums in agreement. They grow solemn from a moment. Then Lindhardt's lips twists into a teasing smile. "I don't think you can be a God if you can't even solve a little heat don't you think?" 

Caspar wipes the sweat on his brows. He glanced at Lindhardt and finds a similar shine on the man's forehead. He leans down and wipes it gently. "Underestimating me? You're smarter than that Lin."

Lindhardt scoffs. "What's your next grand plan? Run around in circles and make your own breeze?" 

"No that would be stupid," Caspar said as a matter of fact. "I'd get too dizzy!" 

Lindhardt purses his lips to stifle his laugh. "Uh-huh yup. Dizzy that's the problem." 

Caspar pats Lindhardt's back comfortingly. "Don't worry I'll do the thinking for us." Then he sits up. And promptly shucks off his shirt. He lets out a relieved sigh. He feels cooler already. He settles back on the grass smugly. Lindhardt frowns. 

"I can sense you being very proud of yourself. What did you do?" 

Caspar grins. "Open your eyes and look!" 

Lindhart ponders it over in his mind. "I don't think I want to? I think ignorance sounds fantastic right now."

He pouts. "Aren't you a researcher? Be more curious!" He whines. "Come on open it! It's like my greatest plan ever."

"I doubt it but alright." A pair of eyes blearily opens. It blinks. Then it blinks again. Then a hand rubs at them before they blink again. "What."

Caspar gestures to himself with a grin. "Go shirtless! Just go shirtless! No shirt no heat!" He waves his hand up in the air. "The next time a breeze comes it'll hit me head-on! Cools me down instantly." He wiggles his fingers in front of Lindhardt's shell-shocked face. "No magic needed."

The green-haired man glanced over him. Sweat had covered his whole body. It would be disgusting, but it's Caspar. So it's extra disgusting.  _ Disgustingly handsome _ , Lindhardt thought.  _ Disgustingly ripped _ .  _ Disgustingly charming _ .  _ Disgustingly adorable _ . Lindhardt inwardly sighed.

"You're lucky you have your looks." Lindhardt shook his head his hair rustling with the grass under him. In the shadows, one could barely tell them apart. Caspar's face fell. 

"You don't think it's awesome?" 

Lindhardt's eyes soften. "Awesome is a stretch but I guess you're flexible enough." Caspar gives him a tentative grin. 

"Knew you'd come around! Now come on," He tugs at Lindhardt's robes. "Strip." 

Hands sharply smacked his. Caspar hisses. "Why did you do that for!" 

Lindhardt smacks him over and over. "Sexual. Assault. Is. A. Serious. Crime!" He says in between. 

"So. Is. Physical. Assault!" Caspar growls as he playfully grabbed Lindhardt's arms. The green-haired man struggled briefly before realizing how much effort it took. He slumped back with a pout. 

Caspar shook his head. "Come on, what are you shy about? I've seen you naked since we were like seven or something." 

"Six." Lindhardt muttered. "We met when we were six."

"Right! So here I'll just strip this off and you'll feel much better." He moves to strip Lindhardt again. Hands slowly pushed him away. Caspar blinked. "What's wrong?" 

"Not that stripping with you isn't a fun thought and all. But the context is disappointingly platonic." Lindhardt sat up and stretched his hands up with a yawn. "Pining over you is tiring enough."

Caspar blinked. "Pining? You're pining over me?" 

Tired eyes glanced at him. A lazy nod. "Have been for the past ten years thanks for noticing." 

Caspar raised a trembling finger to Lindhardt's face. "Y-you…what...I don't understand." He runs his hand up to his hair in frustration. The thought just doesn't register in him. Lindhardt? Pining over him for years? Him? 

Lindhardt pats his head gently. "Don't worry about it. I didn't tell you because I know you'll freak out about it." He tilts his head. "And you know how tired I get when you freak out."

"Were you ever going to tell me?" Caspar demanded suddenly. 

A shrug. "I guess? I don't think you'll ever feel the same way so I just didn't bother."

"Lin it's your feelings, of course, they matter." Caspar sat up to face him properly. "You should've told me. You know you can always be honest with me."

He raised his eyebrow. "And what good would that do? Make it awkward between us? Ruin our dynamic? Distract us in battle?" Lindhardt sighs. "It's just bothersome." 

Caspar frowns. "Well for starters it would have made me catch up to you faster."

"Huh?" The green-haired man muttered lowly. "Catch up?" 

"To your feelings duh." He shakes his head. "Two years is nothing to ten years! Jeez, you get to be taller and like me longer? Unfair."

Lindhardt put a hand on his shoulder to ground himself. "Wait wait…two years? You've liked me for  _ two years _ ?" He shakes his head in disbelief. "How did I not  _ see that _ ?" 

"Huh look at that, you can be wrong sometimes!" Caspar clapped his hands in delight. "Goddess, it feels great I'm not the stupid one in this relationship." He cups his hand behind his neck smugly. 

Lindhardt mouthed the word  _ relationship  _ over and over. Then he snapped his head to Caspar. "Wait. You didn't notice me like you for  _ ten years _ . I didn't notice for  _ two _ . How am I the stupid one here?" He points insistently into Caspar's bare chest. 

Caspar caught it easily and wrapped Lindhardt's hand in his. "Well, we wouldn't even be together if I hadn't start anything! You were ready to take it to the grave!" He pressed his lips to Lindhardt's hand and peered up at him disappointingly. "Don't worry Lin, I'm smart enough for both of us."

Lindhardt sputtered and shoved him down to the ground. Caspar laughed and circled his arm around Lindhardt bringing him down with him. Caspar landed roughly in the ground and Lindhadt ended up pressed close to his body, his chin hitting Caspar's forehead. He stares at the man's robe in amusement. "Satisfied?" 

Lindhardt shuffles down accidentally grinding on Caspar in the process. Caspar hissed and stilled the squirming man on top of him. "Whoa there slow down. At least take me to dinner first!" 

Lindhardt smacks him over his head and Caspar laughed obligingly. Finally, Lindhardt tucked himself comfortable enough to look at Caspar in the eye. His eyes are still tinged with disbelief and shock. 

Caspar cups his cheek in comfort. Lindhardt leaned to it with a conflicted smile. 

"What? What's wrong?" 

Lindhardt shook his head. "We just…wasted so much time." He traces his fingers over Caspar's bare chest. The blue-haired knight shivered in response. "Time we could have used for much better things." 

"Like make out?" Caspar offered. "Let's definitely make out."

Lindhardt snorted. "I was thinking about napping together but sure that too." He leaned down his hands covering Caspar's pecs. Then he pressed his lips to Caspar, soft then insistent. It's closed-mouthed and shy, easing into the act. Teasingly Lindhard lightly pressed his nails down on the bare skin. Caspar gasped and tightened his hold on Lindhardt. Lindhardt's tongue slips in, and oh _ that’s fun _ . 

"What was  _ that _ ." Caspar whispers out of breath. Lindhardt smirked down at him. 

"The things we've been missing out on."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caspar whined scratching at his back in vain. His arm hardly reaches the spot it needs to. He flails his arms around in frustration. "Linnn come on scratch it for me!" He nearly sobs.   
> A sigh resounds in the room before long fingers scratch lazily at his back. Caspar nearly moans in relief.   
> "And this is why we don't lay in grass bareback." Lindhardt mutters nearly falling asleep again.   
> Caspar whines and presses closer to Lindhardt like a spoiled house cat.   
> Lindhardt sighs and pats his back in comfort. "The next time I run my nails over your back it better be in a sexy way."


	6. Dedue/Ashe

Ashe glares at the culprit at hand. Small. Nimble. Fat. Spoiled rotten. "You've lived a privileged life." Ashe says severely. "Living with nobility must have changed you." He sighs in disappointment. "I'm sorry but I must deliver justice where justice needs to be served."

A soft meow answered him. The cat he held in it's armpit was clueless. Nay, ignorant to it's crimes and misguided ways. Ashe shook his head sadly. A criminal incapable of change. What a cruel society. 

"I'm sorry Tubbs." The cat meows it's nose twitching and it's tail swishing to and fro. "I must ban you from the greenhouse," Ashe whispers. "My decision is final."

Tubbs meows at him. 

Ashe shook his head. "I'm sorry but the deed is done! The evidence laid in bare!" 

Tubbs sneezes. 

Ashe shook his head. "I'm sorry Tubbs, there's no bending the rules, even for you." 

"That's harsh of you, Ashe." A deep voice muttered behind him. Ashe flinched and dropped Tubbs in surprise. Easily the cat lands on it's feet and sat, nudging Ashe's knee with it's head softly. Unconsciously Ashe patted it, turning around in dread. 

Just as he feared, Dedue's amused face is what he meets. The Duscur man bent down and extended his hand towards Tubbs in greeting. Tubbs nudged his nose close, sniffing him. He must've judged Dedue to be trustworthy because a second letter he bumped his head to Dedue's hand affectionately. The large man chuckled and indulged the cat in head pats. 

Ashe stuttered as he gestured wildly to Tubbs. "D-Dedue! I can explain! Goddess I-I don't usually-" Dedue put his hand up and shook his head. He sighed in mock disappointment. 

"I know you don't Ashe. I expected better of you." Ashe wilted. His eyes fall to the floor in shame. His cheeks are red in embarrassment. 

"Interrogating a cat without it's lawyer? How careless." He murmurs and puts a comforting hand on Tubbs' back. It meows. "I demand to know what crime my client committed."

Ashe blinked. "Ah-you don't think I'm crazy for talking to a cat?" 

Dedue frowned. "I've seen crazy Ashe. And that's on the battlefield. Usually coupled with death wishes and dubious morals." He scratches Tubbs' chin and the cat purrs happily. "I don't see anything crazy here other than the accusations against my client." He gives a gentle smile to Ashe. 

He beams back and his heart lighten. He feels like he could fly with how light he felt. "Ah well. Sir Dedue you see I have irrefutable evidence against your client." Ashe grins playing along. He pointed to the corner of the greenhouse that had upturned pots and plants, the dirt spilling everywhere. The berries he planted and his lavender blooms were trampled all over. 

Dedue puts a hand in his chin in thought. "Why that could be any cat! Did you accuse my client simply because he was in the scene of the crime?" Ashe chuckled and pulled Tubbs closer. The cat meowed softly as Ashe gently presented it's paws to Dedue. 

"And how do you explain this conveniently placed dirt stains and blueberry stains?" Ashe challenged. Dedue snorts and boops Tubbs in the nose. All around it's mouth were a familiar colored stain. It blinks at Dedue innocently.

"It seems you've done your work, Ashe. I'll admit defeat for now." Dedue solemnly held Tubbs' paw. "Better luck next time Tubbs. Perhaps a swim at the pond would suffice to cover the crime next time." Ashe giggled and let Tubbs down. The cat presses and rubs itself against both of them before running off. 

Ashe dusts off his pants and stood up, Dedue following too. Now with Tubbs gone Ashe's nervousness comes back. He coughed to hide his awkwardness. "S-sorry about that. I…um,find talking to the cats here comforting." He presses his hands together to comfort himself. "Tubbs really did a number on my plants so I wanted to give him a piece of my mind."

Dedue hums and glances at the fallen pots. "Tubbs huh. Did you name him that?" Ashe grins. 

"Sometimes the cat lovers in the monastery cast votes for the cat names in the bulletin board." He glances at the pots and sigh. "We were obviously spot on in naming that one." Ashe shakes his head. "Goddess it's a shame about those. I was planning to make them into cake." 

Ashe walked over to it and examined the mess with a sigh. Now he had to clean this all up and throw them away. How wasteful. Dedue walked over too and examined the scattered plants. His eyes light up with a glint. "It might be too crushed to be a cake. But we can make it into a jam." Ashe looked up at him. 

"Jam?" He said in wonder. "I've never thought of it like that. Would the flavor profile be balanced?" He asked Dedue excitedly. His mind was brimming with possibilities. He could use the jam with french toast. Maybe pair it with some delicate scones. Oh, maybe even into a cake roll! 

Dedue nodded distractedly inwardly counting the useable berries and lavender. "In Duscur we use jam in many things. We also experiment with new jams frequently." He crouched down and began sifting through the mess to pick at the berries. "We can salvage most of this. Do you have anything to carry it?" Ashe blinks and quickly nods. 

"I should have a basket here somewhere." He dashes to the back and returns with a woven basket. "This should do." He joined Dedue and shifted through the dirt to pick the surviving plants of the Tubbs disaster. They work quietly, silence surrounding them. Despite it, it's not an awkward silence. Ashe smiles as he picks the last berry. "That's everything!" 

Dedue pats his hands together and rubs off the dirt. He examines the basket and nods in satisfaction. "That's more than enough for a jar at least." Ashe smiles and tucks the basket close. He glances at Dedue, Ashe nervously glanced at the bigger man. 

"Um, Dedue?" 

"Yes, Ashe?" 

"I-I was wondering…" Ashe looked down at the basket to avoid meeting eyes with him. "Can…can you teach me how to make the jam?" 

Dedue smiled and nodded. "I would like that very much." 

Ashe sighed in relief. "Oh good. I'll clean up here first. Meet you in the dining room?" 

Dedue eyed the mess. "You don't need assistance?" 

"No I'm alright. It won't take long." Ashe waved him away. He's bothered Dedue enough, he doesn't want to make Dedue clean up his mess too! 

Dedue saw Ashe's determined gaze and relented. "Very well. However, would it be alright if we went to my room instead?" 

"Your room?"

"I have a small kitchenette there. And the necessary ingredients for this jam." 

Ashe blinked and nodded excitedly. Dedue's room! He's always wanted to visit there. He’s lost count on how many times he nervously shuffled in front of Dedue’s room too scared to even knock. What if Dedue finds him annoying? What if he hates people visiting his rooms? A few minutes would pass and Ashe ends up dejectedly walking back to his room. 

He can’t miss this chance. “I would love to visit your room!”

The Duscur man chuckled. “Glad you’re excited.” Oops.

Ashe blushed shyly. Dedue shook his head. “Sorry for teasing you Ashe. I’m excited as well. See you soon.” He gently takes the basket in Ashe’s hand. “I’ll clean this up for you too,” Ashe simply nodded dumbly and watched Dedue’s broad back as he exited the greenhouse.

Ashe looked around with a sigh. He could use a cat to chat with right now.

Dedue made his way through the halls feeling lighter than ever. Cooking is always a comfort,a gentle reminder of better days and better memories. The thought of cooking with Ashe however, gives him a sense of giddiness. He trudges down through the monastery and up into his rooms. He opens the door only to startle despite himself. “Your highness!”

Dimitri glanced towards him with a relieved face. “Oh Dedue you’re here. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Dedue shook his head and quickly stepped in to put the basket down.

“I’m sorry your highness,I was stepping out for a moment.” He quickly stands near Dimitri. “What can I help you with?”

The blonde however was glancing at the basket in interest. “Did you go to the greenhouse again?” He peers through the basket and made an interested sound. “Flowers and berries? What an odd combination.”

Dedue shook his head. “Not at all your highness,these make for a great jam in fact.” Dimitri nods distractedly. He’s been biting his lips since Dedue stepped in, his hand clenching and unclenching on his side. “Your highness?” Dimitri jumped.

“O-oh yes. Jam, that sounds great Dedue.”

Hm, he hasn’t even tried to correct Dedue into calling him Dimitri. He tilts his head and leans closer to Dimitri conspiratorially. “Your highness, what did you need me for?”

Dimitri sighs and gives a defeated smile. “Never could hide myself from you Dedue. I just...have a strange request.”

Dedue eyes the slight blush in his prince’s cheeks and smiles knowingly. “Should I prepare some pheasant roast and bring it to your rooms tonight, your highness?” Dimitri’s eyes fly up to him and groans at the glint in Dedue’s eyes. He nods solemnly.

“Ah, enough for two right?”

Dimitri glares petulantly at him. Dedue looks back with a serene smile. “Do not worry your highness. Though they say food is the way to a man’s heart, I think your charm will woo a certain Riegan just fine.” 

“Growing bolder to tease me now Dedue? Perhaps we’re getting too familiar after all.” Dimitri mutters under his breath. Dedue merely chuckled at Dimitri’s sulking. He’s been like this for the past week or so. Nervously asking for more food to be brought late at night and becoming oddly specific about his preferences. He must want to desperately avoid the wandering eyes and ears pressed in the pesky dining halls. His taste seem to divert as well from the norm.

Dedue was of course trained to be sharp. He must be, to be a vassal worthy for Dimitri. A quick glance on Dimitri’s menu choices clued him in quite a lot. Of course, seeing the heir of Riegan limping out off his highness’ room was a big clue as well. And the hickeys he sees Dimitri sport the next day too. He had quietly set down an ointment for irritated skin and a bottle of clear liquid. Dimitri threw a fit at it, face red with shame. Dedue saw how both was quickly pocketed as he stormed off of course.

“I apologize for stepping out of boundaries your highness.” Dedue lowered his head. “I shall be more careful from now on.”

Dimitri clucks his tongue. “Alright stop it.” He smacked Dedue’s shoulder and the Duscur man chuckled in assent. “Thank you Dedue. I know I’ve been troubling you a lot these days my friend.” Dimitri sighed and bit his lip once again. “It’s just...he insists on leaving right after we...finish.” He shook his head with a dismissive sad smile. “The only excuse I have to have him stay longer is your amazing cooking.”

Dedue put a comforting hand on Dimitri’s slumped shoulder. “I do not know how Claude von Riegan thinks, but I assure you, your highness anyone who doesn’t appreciate your presence would be a fool.” He smiles knowingly. “And I do not think he is a fool at all.”

Dimitri pats his hand in gratitude. “Thank you Dedue. And I’m sorry still to spring this to you so last minute.”

“Ah, as a matter of fact, I may have a helper today.”

“Oh?” Dimitri said.

“Mhm.” Dedue nods, walking over to prepare the spices and tools he’ll need. “I was intending to make the jam with Ashe.”

“Oh?” Dimitri grins. “Ashe huh?”

Dedue sighs exasperatedly. “Please don’t tease me your highness.”

“Tease? You mock me Dedue.” Dimitri chuckles. “No, this time I will advise you as you’ve always advised me.”

“I see.” He shuffles around his makeshift pantry, sighing in relief when he sees two pheasants stored. He silently thanks his past self. He brings them out to adjust to room temperature and sets his eyes on preparing what he needs for the jam as well. Ashe should be finished right about now.

Dimitri raised an eyebrow. “You doubt my wisdom Dedue?”   
  


Dedue chuckled and shook his head. “On the contrary, I welcome it very much, your highness.”

The prince gives him a satisfied nod. “As you should! Well, I say wisdom but it’s more of a ruse really.” He scratches the back of his neck.

He glanced back to give his prince his full attention. He nods encouragingly. Dimitri grins sheepishly.

“Well uh. You know how you’ve been interested in Ashe for a while?”

A nod.

“But you’re not sure if he’s interested too? And you don’t want to pressure him into doing anything because he’s too nice for his own good?”

Dedue nods again.

“Well, you can confirm it, by uh-going shirtless. Just observe how he acts on it.”

Dedue blinks. He glances around his kitchenette. “That hardly sounds hygenic.”

Dimitri coughs, a blush on his cheeks. “Well, it worked for me.” He muttered dejectedly like he’s berating himself. He shook his head. “Anyway think it over.” He claps a good-natured hand on Dedue’s shoulder. “I shall leave you to it then my friend.”

Once the prince left, Dedue began cataloging his ingredients more thoroughly. Strings,olive oil, thyme...he nods as he shifts through his shelves. A hesitant knock throws him from his string of thought. He glanced at the door, and for a moment he thinks back to Dimitri’s words.

He has danced around the idea of Ashe for a while now. The war and Dimitri’s well being are his number one priority. But now that they’ve fallen into some form of fragile peace, and Dimitri has grounded himself to someone, perhaps it’s time he indulges himself as well. He looks down and sighs. He prays a silent apology to his mother and sister for the  sacrilegious act he was going to comitt in the kitchen.

Ashe stood in front of Dedue’s door a thousand questions poking his nervousness. Is this even Dedue’s room?  _ Of course it is you live just next door _ . Did Dedue really want to cook with him?  _ Well, he did say yes and invited you to his room _ . But what if he was just being too nice!  _ Dedue is a nice person… _

Ashe groans. Even his inner voice was doubted him. Goddess, he needs an emotional support cat so bad right now. Just as he debated walking away and never return to Fodlan the door opens. To Dedue. Bare-chested. As in, no shirt. He’s not wearing a shirt.  _ He’s not wearing a shirt _ . Ashe pinches himself to make sure he’s awake and this isn’t one of his raunchy dreams. The pinch hurts though he barely even notices. His eyes must be glaring daggers at Dedue’s chest, his large pecs, his stacked abdomen, his brown-

Ashe forces himself to smile and look away. Oh wow that doorway looks very interesting, is that the same material as the door? Ahaha…

“I-uh. Mm...you’re...not wearing a shirt?” He says haltingly and it even sounds like a question. Ashe inwardly groans.

Dedue looks down as if he just realized. “Ah yes. I spilled something on it earlier.” He peers up at Ashe searching for something. “You don’t mind, do you? I’d rather change after I’ve had my bath.”

Ashe shook his head. “N-no of course not! You do you Dedue! Ahaha…” Goddess anymore of this and he’d proably give Dedue a thumbs up or something. He glanced down at his hand.  _ Dammit _ !

Dedue eyes the thumb in amusement. “Alright then come on in.”

The view of Dedue walking away nearly sends Ashe convulsing.  _ Goddess that’s one broad back _ , he thought hysterically. Ashe itched to put his hand on Dedue, tracing his lithe muscle. How would it feel under Ashe’s hands? Would Dedue be interested at all in some friendly not at all sexual back rub? For free, all he had to do was maybe let Ashe grope him a bit more, maybe even lower. Ashe blushed at his own imagination and shook his head to clear it.

Stop it Ashem you’re here to  _ cook _ . Not ogle the chef! He sighs reverently at Dedue who was heating up a pot. No matter how hot and shirtless and built like a house they are.

Ashe quickly stepped next to Dedue, desperate for any distraction. “Are we making the jam now?”

Dedue nodded. “First we shall boil down the berries. We need some lemonade to boil with it as well.” Ashe nodded back and quickly grabbed the lemon. He cut it in half and drained it into the heating pot. Dedue grabbed the berries he’d cleaned beforehand and poured it into the pot. He grabbed a wooden spoon and gave it to Ashe. “This is the fun part. We mash the berries in the pot to quicken the process.”

Ashe gave a low whistle and excitedly started. “Did your mother let you do this when you were little Dedue?”

“She did. She said I should pull my weight if I’m scarfing down the jams so fast.” Ashe giggled. The thought of a small Dedue struggling over a pot of jam waiting patiently for it to cool down was simply too adorable.

“Next we add sugar.” Dedue rumbles from behind him. Ashe jolts. He hadn’t realized what position he’s in. His small frame was caged by Dedue’s in the small stove. He blushed once again and buried his head down to avoid meeting Dedue’s eyes. The Duscur man hummed and a warm hand settled against Ashe’s arm.

Then he felt Dedue’s body press closer against him as his other hand reaches up the cabinet. He pulls out the sugar, and just as quick as it came, the touch drew away. Ashe sighed in dissapointment. The sigh must be louder than he thought. Dedue leaned down and peered curiously at him.

“Is something wrong Ashe?”

Silver hair bounce wildly as he shook his head. “N-nope! Everything is great! Absolutely terrific! Nothing wrong at all!”  _ Unless you count my dirty mind _ , Ashe thought frantically.

Dedue hummed and poured the sugar in. Goddess, he doesn’t even measure. He knows it by heart. Ashe’s heart clench. He wants, he wants so much that it’s suffocating. He wants more awkward cooking time with Dedue, finding excuses to press closer, brush his hand over Dedue’s, trade recipies and make new ones, explore Duscur cuisine with him. Ashe was falling deeper and deeper for Dedue.

“Alright, that should do it.” Dedue said as he took the spoon from Ashe’s limp hands.

“Huh-uh. Oh! Okay! Do we leave it for now?” Ashe asked his voice at least an octave higher.

Dedue chuckled. “Yes, we can now simply wait for it to boil down. In the meantime may I bother you to help me cook some pheasants, Ashe?”

“Pheasants?” Ashe asked. “Oh, are you making your dinner?”

Dedue shook his head as he brought over the meat. “Ah, it’s for his highness actually.”

Ashe looks at them and pokes it curiously. “I didn’t know he liked pheasants now! Enough to eat two in one sitting in fact.” Ashe eyes the second pheasant in disbelief.

“It’s for him and his guest actually.” Dedue gestures to the spices and Ashe quickly brought over some salt and pepper. “Do you mind helping me with the other one?”   
  


Ashe nodded. The two of them made quick work of tying the pheasant with a thin cooking string. Then they rubbed it with salt and pepper generously. Dedue glanced around and grabbed another colorful red spice. “We use this in Duscur cuisine a lot. It goes well with pheasants.”

Ashe sniffs it curiously and coughs. “W-wow that’s spicy alright. Chili,cumin,and...cinnamon?” Dedue nodded in satisfaction.

“Right you are Ashe. You have a sharp nose.”

Ashe rubbed it sheepishly. “Nah,just got lucky. How many do I rub in the meat?” Dedue frowned at the change of subject but accepted the distraction. He rubbed a generous amount and showed it for Ashe to follow. A rubbed pheasant later they started a pan and a generous amount of olive oil in the stove.

Dedue settled his hand above the pan and nodded when he felt it was warm enough. Ashe carefully cut some thyme from the pot on Dedue’s window sill and brought them over for Dedue to inspect. The Duscur man glanced over them and nodded in approval. “Perfect.” He praised with a smile to Ashe.

The silver-haired man blushed and looked away to hide his pleased smile. They tuck the thyme to cover the pheasant and Dedue gently laid it to the pan. The smell of the meat cooking filled Ashe’s nose and he sighed in contentment. Dedue glanced at him with a knowing smile. 

“Can you chop the vegetables for me while I do this Ashe?”

“Sure!”

He grabbed the kitchen knife and examined the bowl of vegetables. Carrots,corn,and asparagus. “Do you want to grill the corn?” Ashe asked.

“Yes. Just cut them into a few pieces.”

Ashe nodded and started to chop. His hands were steady and efficient. He made quick work of the carrot as he diced it neatly. He also chopped the corn evenly and easily. It was when he got to the asparagus that it all went to hell. Ashe made a mistake of glancing at Dedue.

The Duscur man was shifting the pan over the stove to keep the pheasant from burning. Which wouldn’t be a problem if it didn’t draw Ashe’s eyes to the flex of his strong biceps. He held the heavy pan in ease like it weighed a feather. His other hand was inside his pockets, a picture perfect professional chef with full confidence of his skills. Ashe bit his lip to repress outright groaning. Of course, that’s when his hand decided to chop down. And cut his unassuming finger.

Ashe yelped and dropped the knife in surprise. He groaned as he saw blood welled up. Great, as if he needed more ways to embarass himself in front of Dedue. A large warm hand circled his wrist and his hand was brought close to Dedue’s face. The Duscur man was frowning, his eyebrows drawn together.

“O-oh sorry Dedue.” Ashe murmured trying to pull his hand back. “It’s nothing I just nicked it. I’ll just press down on it.”

Dedue shook his head and tugged him to the sink. “Nonsense. We have to clean it and disinfect it straight away.” Dedue let the water run through his wound. Ashe hissed at the pain. Dedue glanced apologitecally at Ashe. “Bear with it for a moment Ashe.”

Ashe nodded quietly and let himself be dragged away again. Dedue settled him gently down a stool as he rummaged around a wooden box. A moment later he brought over ointment and a wad of bandage. Ashe chuckled and shook his head in exasperation. “I hardly need a bandage Dedue. It’ll heal soon enough.”

“A wound is not something to ignore no matter how small,” Dedue said firmly. He gently applied the ointment and Ashe watched in a trance as Dedue’s large finger stroke his so gently. The ointment stings and Ashe involuntarily flinches. Dedue grimaced. “Just a little more Ashe.” He assured him.

As he finished applying the ointment Dedue examined the finger again. Ashe was about to ask what’s wrong until a small breeze passed through his wound. Ashe shivered and gasped as he saw what Dedue was doing. Dedue was crouched down on one knee in front of him. The man was gently cradling his finger and blowing on the wound to dry the ointment. “D-Dedue! There’s hardly any need for this!”

Dedue shook his head sadly. “You were hurt because of me Ashe. Please let me take care of you.”

“Ah…” Ashe trailed off. “I was the clumsy one Dedue. I didn’t pay attention, that’s all.”

“What distracted you Ashe?” Dedue murmured. It felt like a challenge. Ashe held his breath. He looked down at Dedue and nearly gasped at the emotion behind those green eyes. Ashe felt like he was close in the cusp of something new. Something dangerous. He could feel the truth at the tip of his tongue.

“You,” Ashe whispered like a secret. “I was distracted by you.”

Dedue slowly bandaged the wound. He looked at Ashe and shook his head. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Ashe shook his head. “You didn’t mean too!” He says firmly.

“But I did.” Dedue sighed. “I did this on purpose to test you.” He cursed lowly. “I knew I shouldn’t have done it here.”

“Test me?” Ashe muttered back with a frown. “Did you-did you do this to play with me?” Ashe says angrily.

Dedue quickly shook his head. “No. I wanted to know...no, I needed to know.”

“Know what?” Ashe asks. He hates how hoarse he sounds, close to tears by embarrassment. Goddess, what was he hoping for? That Dedue felt the same way he did?  _ Foolish _ .

“If you felt something for me,” Dedue said slowly. “Like what I feel for you, Ashe.”

Ashe gaped at him. 

And glanced down at Dedue’s lack of shirt. And back at Dedue’s earnest face. Ashe wrinkled his nose cutely.

“I...by going shirtless?” 

Dedue smiled teasingly.

“That’s what you focus on?”

Ashe blushed and smacked Dedue’s shoulder. “I mean-I just-” Dedue raised his eyebrow in amusement.

“Oh alright. Yes, I like you!” Ashe exclaimed. He gestured wildly down to Dedue. “But by the Goddess, I can’t believe you Dedue! You...you…” He trailed off. Dedue chuckled lowly.

“Yes?”

“You  _ tease _ !” Ashe gasped out. Dedue smiled and pressed a kiss to Ashe’s bandaged finger.

“I apologize. Would you ever forgive me?” Ashe sputtered as he felt Dedue’s kiss. Already he could feel the fight in him melting away to warm happiness and a great deal of giddiness. Ashe took a deep breath.

“No, I won’t.” He said firmly. Dedue blinked and looked at him in surprise. He opened his mouth, probably to apologize some more, but Ashe’s finger pressed his lips to stop him. Ashe grinned. “Not until you kiss me properly, that is.”

Dedue sighed in relief and pressed another kiss to the finger before standing up in ease. Ashe felt warm hands cup his cheek and he leaned to it with a content hum. Dedue’s thumb brushes his lips and he instinctively parts it. Dedue groans lowly and leans down to finally,  _ finally _ press his lips to Ashe’s.

They both moan and kiss each other with renewed fervor. Ashe’s lips easily slip open to welcome Dedue’s tongue. And then it was a whole other kiss, more frantic more desperate. They part for breath and Dedue leaned his forehead against Ashe’s gasping for air. “I-I would love to continue this. However, his highness’ dinner time approaches.”

Ashe frowned and brushed his hand over Dedue’s swollen lips. “We clearly haven’t kissed enough if you still remember that.” He giggled at Dedue’s hungry gaze. He pressed another kiss to Dedue parting his lips teasingly. Just as Dedue moaned and parted his lips to kiss him deeper, Ashe pulled away with a grin. 

Dedue frowned at Ashe’s smug face. “Tease.”

Ashe kissed him chastely one more time before tugging Dedue back to the kitchenette. “Alright come on or we’ll never finish in time.”

Dedue sighed and let himself be pulled. Pointedly he grabbed the kitchen knife for himself and pushed Ashe to the stove this time. Ashe giggles at Dedue’s protective look and bounded to the stove, a skip in his steps. He peers down the pot of jam and makes a pleased sound. He scoops a small amount on the wooden spoon and lightly blew on it. He turned and called Dedue.

When green eyes settled on him, Ashe quick as a feline licked the spoon.

They end up barely finishing the dinner in time and ended up with less jam in the jar than expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A light knock on his room’s door made Dimitri gasp. He pulled away from Claude’s sinful lips with an apologetic smile. The dark-haired man licked his lips. “Best get that now before I eat you up your highness.” Dimitri’s eyes follow the tongue and let out a low groan. He forced himself to pull away from Claude’s warm body and to the door.   
> He opened it and blinked. And promptly laughed, slapping the person at the door on their shoulder repeatedly.  
> “I can’t believe you actually did it!”  
> “...Shall I eat these myself then your highness?”  
> “Aw come on! Shouldn’t you be thanking me?”  
> Dimitri was ready for another laughing fit when a firm arm circles his waist possessively.  
> “My my who has you laughing so happily Dimitri?” Claude murmured as he peered over Dimitri’s shoulder. He blinked. Then promptly snorted. He looked at Dimitri and they both burst out laughing.  
> Dedue sighed sufferingly with a tray tucked in his arm. His lips were notably swollen red from Ashe’s enthusiastic kisses. And high on his neck, despite his buttoned-up shirt, were molten of hickeys. He ends up leaving the tray in front of the laughing nobles, shaking his head exasperatedly.

**Author's Note:**

> Dear God it finally ends. Don't forget to leave a kudos if you enjoyed this! Check out my profile for some Beastars fic if that interest you!
> 
> Follow me on twitter @frymyrisole


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